#so is the little boy laurent mentions

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Nickname Runs in the Family || CL16

Summary: When you end up crying on your father’s shoulder over a boy, Kimi enlists the help of Charles to teach him a lesson. Charles Leclerc x Raikkonen!Reader Warnings: nsfw, fighting, mentions of sex, WC: 2.9k

To the outside world Kimi was known as ‘The Iceman’, garnered for his cold personality in the media and how he never let anything bother him, at home however he was just called isä or dad. You really could have done with more of The Iceman persona because when it came to his family your father was anything but cool and collected.

“Tell me what happened,” Kimi demanded, your tears only streaming faster down your cheeks.

“Nothing happened, dad.”

“Something happened, tytär, don’t lie to me.”

It was stupid to go there after what happened. You should have just returned to your student accommodation at the college but you needed the comfort of home and someone you trusted. Now all of Monaco was going to hear just how hotheaded The Iceman got while your step-mother tried to put your baby half-sister back to sleep.

“Nothing happened!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands as embarrassment flamed across your cheeks. “I said no, okay. I said no and he called me a frigid bitch before dumping me and leaving me at the party.”

You expected to hear something break, or at least his heavy stomps storming towards the front door. You didn’t expect your dad to throw his head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the quiet living room. 

“Ah, that’s my girl,” he laughed as he bundled you into a hug. “I like that, Frigid Bitch. It’s good.”

You snorted a laugh despite the hurt and wiped your tears on his shoulder. “I thought you would be angry.”

“Oh, I am,” he admitted somberly. He placed a kiss on your head before standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. You didn’t see who he was calling so late at night but groaned when it was answered. “Hello, Charles. You know everyone in Monaco, where does Devereux Laurent live?”

“Isä! No!”

Your father ignored you as he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, his phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. “I’m not going to kill the little bastard, fuck, Charles, I just want to have a chat.”

The door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan about keeping your mouth shut next time. You were still ruminating over your life choices when the doorbell rang an hour later. 

“Charles?” You frowned at the man panting in your doorway like he sprinted across the city before your eyes widened at the split lip he sported. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

“Kimi.”

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah.”

You grabbed your purse that had been discarded on the kitchen table when you arrived. “Where is he?” 

“The police station.”

“Shit, he didn’t do that to you, did he?”

Charles reeled back, clearly offended. “No, you’re asshole boyfriend hit me.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you clarified as you dragged him inside and grabbed a tea towel to wrap a bag of peas from the freezer. Charles flinched as you gently pressed the ice pack to his lips and you sighed. “I’m sorry my dad got you involved in this.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the pack from your hand to place it on his swollen knuckles that you hadn’t noticed. “I got myself involved when I heard what Dev did. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t get punched in the face,” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes, however you soon sobered. “It's nothing a few drinks and a bad romcom can’t fix, after I’ve bailed dad out first. It’s not like we were together long enough to get heartbroken. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”

“I’ll drive.” He snatched a set of keys from the hook by the door, but you caught his wrist and took them back.

“That’s Minttu’s minivan.” You hung the keys back on the hook and grabbed a set for your dad’s Rolls Royce Wraith instead. The empty hook beside it was where the keys to his Ferrari Pista usually hung. “She wouldn’t be happy if you crashed her car again.”

“I didn’t crash her car,” he argued as he pocketed the keys and opened the door. “You were driving!”

“I had a shit instructor. You were too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to teach me.”

His finger jabbed the call button for the elevator as he scoffed. “You only know that because you were too busy checking me out to watch the road.”

The elevator arrived but you held a hand out to block him as you stepped into the small space. “Sorry, your inflated ego is too big to fit in here.” 

“That wasn’t a denial.”

You ignored him and jutted your head to the fireproof door. “Try the stairs.”

“But we’re on the top floor.”

You smirked as the doors started to close but he darted inside before they sealed shut.

“You’re still not denying it.”

“So you really went swinging for my honour?” you deflected as he hit the button for the garage level, exposing his swollen fist again.

“You sound surprised.” He leaned back against the wall and looked at his hand, massaging the tender bruises. “When I saw he was still at the party…”

You frowned, first at the fact that Dev went back after leaving you there, asshole, then at the fact Charles knew where he was. Charles was definitely not at the party, if he was then you would have heard the women going feral for him. “How did you know he was there? You don’t follow him on Instagram.”

“Not on my main account,” he said with a shrug. Anyone that Charles followed on social media made sure to announce the news like it was an instant ticket to ViP treatment, and Dev would have been no different. It was also the exact reason you went by Y/L/N, your mother’s surname, instead of Raikkonen. You didn’t want to be used by people for the name you carried. 

“You hate him, why would you follow him?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

“It does to me.” 

Unfortunately the doors opened and he pushed off from the wall to stride past without an answer. A flash of lights responded to the click of the button on the keys and Charles slowed his steps for you as he led the way to the sedan parked in a secluded corner, the space beside it empty of your fathers red Pista. Charles stopped at your door and opened it for you, his eyes scanning the open space that was empty and quiet save for the whine of the elevator leaving the level. 

“For you,” he admitted as you slipped into the leather seat. “I followed him to keep an eye on you.”

The door closed and you watched him walk around the car, dropping into the driver’s seat before pushing it back to suit his longer legs. He then silently adjusted the mirrors and turned down the heavy rock music that blasted when the engine started. You didn’t know what to say, all you had were more questions that could only lead to more confusion.

“You deserve better,” Charles said, breaking the awkward silence as he pulled out into the street. 

“He was just drunk.” 

“That’s not an excuse. You deserve someone who will wait until you are ready to have sex, not try it on drunk and at a party.” His words were seething by the time he finished and his knuckles turned white from the tight grasp he had on the steering wheel.

“Uh, Charles, I was joking about my honour…I’m not a virgin.”

“Wait, what?” The car slammed to a halt and he earned a toot from the Lamborghini behind before it drove around when Charles didn’t move. “Since when?” he asked as he turned in his seat to face you.

“I didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Was I meant to stand at the corner and hold a sign that said ‘deflowered’ in Times New Roman or Comic Sans?”

He didn’t even blink at your icy tone and heavy sarcasm. “But Dev said he dumped you because you didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”

“Oh my god, no! I can’t believe we are having this conversation, Charles.” You figured it couldn't get any more awkward as you looked out the window into the sleeping city. “Sex wasn’t the problem, he was upset because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

“Oh…oh.” He cleared his throat and put the car back into drive before continuing his way to the police station. “So, uh, is there anyone you do want to, um, have sex with at the moment?” 

“Why? Are you offering?” It was meant to sound teasing but there was too much curiosity in it.

His face flushed pink and his lips parted two twice before his voice worked. “I don’t do casual.”

It wasn’t a no, and that somehow made things both better and worse as a new possibility began to worm its way into your mind. You didn’t like the hope that fluttered in your stomach. Charles was a friend. Charles was someone your father trusted after Seb vouched for him. Charles was off limits. 

By the time you had filtered through the thoughts he had induced, Charles was pulling into the police station and you hoped your dad was fairing well behind bars. It turned out you had no reason to worry as you walked inside and heard his voice from behind the glass wall. 

Kimi was being well taken care of by the officers. He had a coffee in one hand, a pastry in the other and was answering questions that had nothing to do with Dev. You cringed as he recounted why he missed meeting Pelé years ago, but Charles chuckled along with the policemen as you knocked on the door.

The Monégasques fawned over their hometown hero while you watched Kimi pull himself to his feet, cracking his back that had stiffen while he was sat down. 

“I thought you would be in maximum security by now,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “What did you do?”

He patted your cheek and smiled mischievously. “I like Charles even more now.”

He gave you nothing else but that was expected. Whatever happened was obviously not on the record and you wanted to keep it that way, especially since he didn’t have a single scratch on him - like he hadn’t been in a fight at all. You were quietly contemplating that knowledge when you climbed into the backseat of the Wraith and your father readjusted everything on the driver's side back to how he had it.

“You took the fall for Charles, didn’t you?”

They both swivelled back to look at you. Charles’ eyes widened, while your father’s narrowed. 

“Fucking hell, I’m not going to tell anyone,” you growled as you threw your arms up in exasperation. “I just want to know what actually happened tonight.”

Charles waited to see if your dad wasn’t going to explain as the car pulled out of the station car park. After a moment of hesitation he took a breath and started to rattle off the truth.

“I called Kimi when I realised Dev was still at the party. It was only a block away so I thought I would meet him there to point him out.”

“I was just about at the address he gave me when he called. I got there as fast as I could but Charles was already inside,” Kimi said with a proud chortle. “Got a few good hits on the little bastard too.”

“Iså,” you warned as he enjoyed the violence just a bit too much and Charles looked sheepishly down at his hands. “Why did you fight?”

“You know why. I couldn’t stand by and let him talk about you that way.”

“Good man,” Kimi said with a stern nod. 

“And you, what did you do, dad?”

“What I had to do,” he said with a shrug. “I’m retired, Charles has a career.”

You stretched the seatbelt and leaned forward to hug your dad and kiss his cheek before doing the same to Charles. “Thank you.” Your eyes lingered on Charles as his eyes said everything he couldn’t with your father in the car. 

“He’s not pressing charges but there may be some questions if anyone caught the fight on camera. You might want to give your PR team a heads up.”

It took a moment to realise where you were and why the car had stopped outside the venue where the party was still in full swing. Drunken revellers could be heard behind the velvet curtain hanging over the door and your father handed his keys over to Charles with a shake. “Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning, no scratches.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles promised with a nod before getting out.

“You’re trusting him with your Pista?”

“I trust him with you, the car I can replace.”

You surprised him with another hug as your door opened, your voice thick with emotion as you said, “thank you.”

“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly. “I can make up the sofa bed.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll want to get out of my bed tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You stepped out and Charles closed the door, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to your father’s favourite car. “He doesn’t even let me drive this, you know.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t support Ferrari,” Charles teased as you buckled yourself in.

“I support it now.”

“What changed your mind?”

You dared to look at him and met his green eyes. “You.”

—

“Awww, she called her little puppy,” Dev taunted as he spotted Charles walking towards him.

Charles chuckled, but it held no humour and his smile was dark. You had never seen that look in his eye and your thighs clenched in response. “At least she will still call me. You just lost the best thing you never deserved.”

“Well you can have the frigid bitch, good luck getting her to put out though. Fucking cocktease.” The snort Dev made was cut off by the fist that crashed into his nose and then the both of them were going to the floor, grappling and twisting until Kimi darted into the fray and grabbed Charles.

“Go, she’s at home,” Kimi ordered as he pushed Charles back the way he came. “I’ve got it from here, kid.”

The video looped back to the start and you watched it twice more before determining you were fucked. It hit you like a train, the pressure slamming into your chest as you realised you were in love with Charles. No one had ever stood up for you like that, or taken a punch for you or risked their career. But he had.

You stayed cocooned in your blankets for most of the morning, watching the video footage from the night before and it became your new favourite binge worthy entertainment. It would probably be classed as insanity if anyone knew you had become addicted to it, but it was only the fact someone knocked at your door that you placed your phone down.

“Charles? I’m getting a little déjà-vu here,” you commented as you opened the door and found him sweating.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he blurted out. “Please.”

Your brows shot up at the outburst and you checked the student halls were empty before pulling him into your room. “Uh, you do realise who my father is, right?”

“I do, thank you for your concern,” he chuckled. “I was actually just with him. I wanted his permission to ask you on a date.”

“Well that explains why it looks like you’ve been running for your life.” You looked at your door expecting to see it kicked in. “Was he chasing you?”

“What? No, I wasn’t running. Fuck,” he groaned as he ran his hands over his jeans to dry his clammy palms. “I was just nervous about asking you out. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I will.”

“Answer the question or go out with me?”

“I will go out with you,” you clarified with a laugh.

Relieved, he took a seat at the edge of your bed and sighed happily. “I have been waiting years to ask.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded before flopping himself down comfortably and you dropped down beside him. “Your dad scared me,” he admitted as he took your hand in his.

“But not anymore.”

Charles smiled and it was one so similar to the video that was still playing on loop. He seemed to recognise the muffled sound coming from the blanket at the same time you remembered it was there and fished it out. “You’ve seen it.”

“Once or twice,” you lied. “I see why you’re not afraid anymore. That’s one hell of a right hook.”

“Oh no I am definitely still afraid of Kimi,” he corrected as he rolled on his side to face you. “But I am done watching you date assholes when I know exactly how you deserve to be treated. I want to give you the world, if you’ll let me.”

[lovelytsunoda]

a thousand miles // mick schumacher

summary: searching for life after f1, the race of champions may just have the answer mick needs, in the form of a shy former w series driver who is just as lost as he is

pairing: mick schumacher x female driver!reader

warnings: mentions of guenther steiner/haas, karaoke, matchmaker val returns! corinna the icon is also trying to get her son to go on a date, one small joke about crashing a rally car.

author's note: @magnummagnussen told me this was a terrible idea. i beg to differ : )

the swedish sunlight bounced off the snowdrifts outside of the ski lodge, illuminating the inside of the dining hall where the drivers milled about and socialized, bright smiles on their faces.

mick saw her first.

he was locked in conversation with seb, his eyes catching her just out of the corner of his line of sight, hair braided messily over one shoulder, wearing skinny jeans and a hoodie for a band he's never heard of, a pom pom hat with the race of champions logo on it as she nervously clutched a breakfast tray and tried to figure out where to sit.

normally, she would have sat with jamie chadwick, but the brit had decided to go for an early run, and had left the other former w series driver alone.

it was valtteri who noticed the young german driver's wandering eyes first. with a smile and a sip of his espresso, he waved the young woman over, enjoying the look of panic on mick's face.

"valtteri!" mick hissed. "why would you do that!?"

"because you've been miserable since abu dhabi and you need to let loose a little bit."

mick couldn't exactly protest. since learning that he had been dropped from the haas formula one team just hours before the qualifying session for the last race of the season was due to start, there had been a hole in his heart, something that he couldn't patch up.

but he knew that a short lived roc fling was the last thing that would help him out.

"hi." she said sofltly her voice like music to mick's ears. "can i sit with you guys? jamie kind of left me high and dry this morning."

sebastian smiled, ever the gentleman as he motioned towards the free seat next to him.

the free seat that also happened to be next to a certain young schumacher.

"i'm y/n y/l/n, i used to drive in the w series for quantfury. i'm felipe's teammate for all star team this weekend." she introduced herself as she picked at the paper wrapper on her double chocolate muffin, an untouched mug of hot chocolate and whipped cream on the other end of the tray.

"mick schumacher, fellow racing reject." mick joked nervously, reaching out to shake the young woman's hand. "formerly of the haas formula one team and the ferrari driver's academy. now proudly driving reserve for mercedes."

"i'm technically a part of the alpine young driver's programme, but it's not like they've done any work at getting me closer to driving an f1 car. not that i blame them, all of otmar and laurent's efforts were on the piastri thing this season."

"technicalities only matter in this sport when the fia get what they want." seb hummed. "i'm-"

"sebastian vettel, racing legend!" y/n gushed. "i'm like, a huge fan. i grew up watching you on the telly, i had a poster of you at red bull hanging up in my room. this is so fucking surreal, dude. heck, i walked past mika hakkinen earlier and thought i was going to cry."

the rest of the table laughed. "mick was like that when he was here last year." seb said fondly. "i think everybody is like that when they come here for the first time."

"mika fucking hakkinen, man."

seb and val shared a look before looking back over at mick.

they knew.

the boy was smitten already.

--------

the press conference took place at exactly noon, and as was typical of the roc, most of the scheduled drivers were late.

it's not that y/n was late on purpose. but she was horrifically lost inside the chalet and had been turned around four or five different time trying to find her way to the conference room, overheating in her race suit in the warm chalet.

the directions were loaded on her phone, but she still felt like it was a lost cause as she rolled up the sleeves of deep blue nomex material, leaning her head against the wall to take a few deep breaths.

everything was fine. everything was okay. she was safe.

she heard voices coming from her left, and her heart skipped a beat.

the press conference. she had found it.

she rushed inside, trying to duck out of view of the cameras as she scurried to the table at the front of the room. catching her eye from the distance, mick waved at her, a small smile on her face that was enough to put a matching smile on her own as she took a seat in between the german and her teammate, felipe drugovich.

"where have you been?" felipe asked quietly.

she shook her head, unwilling to admit that she had gotten lost. "don't worry about it."

"so nice of you to join us, miss y/l/n." one of the reporters said, the young driver snapping to attention and reaching for the desktop microphone, fumbling with it and trying not to knock it over. "with the w series seemingly ended permanently, what's next for you after this weekend?"

"i'm still trying to make my 2023 plans." she said softly, the microphone barely catching her soft voice. she had always hated media commitments. "obviously an f3 place is out of the question right now, and it's pretty obvious that i'm too old for all that now, so i've been looking into these one-off racing opportunities and tests so that i can find out what i want to do in 2024."

she felt her throat get tighter, the sweat forming on the back of her neck as she nervously reached one black polished fingernail to brush an errant strand of hair from her bun to the space behind her ear.

"hey." mick said softly, nudging her in the side. "you're doing great."

she took a deep breath before flashing mick a smile as she continued talking.

"i've got a few races lined up with the nascar xfinity series down in the united states, and i'm really looking forward to it. racing in america has a completely different vibe to it, you know?"

--------

the next time mick saw y/n, he was with his mother, testing out the rally car during the free practice session.

she was impossible to miss, her screams of delight carrying over the wind and followed up by laughter as the car caught air going over a hill.

it was enough to make the boy freeze behind the wheel, corinna giving him a knowing look.

"what's her name, mickie?" corinna said with a smile, pulling out her phone, no doubt to see who her son was so infatuated with.

"y/n y/l/n." mick said softly. "but i dont know her that well, mom."

"oh, she's pretty!" corinna beamed, pulling up the driver's instagram profile. "look, she's a perfect fit for you, she's quiet and she's shy and she doesn't go to parties!"

"mom, i swear to god i will crash this car and make you walk back to the chalet yourself!"

mick rolled his eyes, turning his head back to the windshield as he took a sharp corner around the track. it's not that he hadn't thought about y/n since the presser. he thought she was sweet, and he would deny it if asked, but he looked forward to seeing her and knew that when life went back to normal after roc, that he would miss her.

"you don't have anything to lose, mick. what's the harm in even just going for a coffee with her or something? i'm not telling you to marry the girl, but at least give romance a chance."

the german would think about his mother's words all day: through his time in the sauna, to the ice bath and then again at dinner. the thoughts would eventually keep him awake at night, unable to fall asleep while wrapped in the hotels luxury down bedding.

he found himself wandering the chalet at odd hours of the night, lost in his own thoughts as he meandered towards the coffee machine in the lobby. if he was going to stay awake, he might as well stay warm as well.

the chalet doors slid open, and mick's breath caught in his throat as he watched her stride into the lobby, wearing a different beanie hat but the same one ok rock hoodie she had been wearing when he eyed her for the first time, a puffy tan jacket pulled over the entire ensemble and a plastic bag for a swedish supermarket hanging from her arm.

"mick!" she shouted, face bright as she crossed the lobby. "couldn't sleep?"

the boy shrugged, trying to play it cool even though his palms were sweaty and his heart was racing and was she always this pretty? was that mole on her upper lip always there?

"come on, let me introduce you to my favorite pre-race ritual." she beamed, pulling a bag of edible pilsbury cookie dough from the bag, along with two metal spoons clearly stolen from the breakfast buffet.

mick couldn't help but laugh. "how has your performance coach not killed you yet?"

"what she doesn't know won't kill her. who is she to rob me of life's greatest pleasures?"

pinching himself to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, mick followed the driver back to her hotel room. her energy was magnetic, and mick couldn't help but be drawn in.

they settled on the plush bed, shrouded in blankets as she overturned the shopping bag, allowing it's contents to fall to the blanket.

"so, this is what i watch when it's been a long day, or if i don't have the mental energy to focus on anything else." she said with a cheeky smile as she popped open her laptop. "when i was in the w series, it was juju noda who got me hooked on the really cheesy j-dramas. i already watched the darker asian dramas, like the psychological thrillers and everything, but it was juju who got me hooked on the romance ones when we watched coffee and vanilla."

she clicked onto disney plus, waiting for it to lead as she opened the canister of cookie dough in her hand. after the screen loaded, she navigated her cursor over to an orange thumbnail.

"this is yakuza lover: romance and bullets. and yes, it's as mind-numbing as it sounds."

they watched a few episodes, exchanging bites of cookie dough and popping open bottles of flavored sparkling water as the characters on the screen kept digging themselves into holes they couldn't get out of.

"do they not take one look at the dialogue and go 'what the fuck is going on here'?" mick asked quizzically, staring at the fictional yakuza boss on the screen. "like, seriously? and she finds that even remotely attractive?"

"it reads like a bad wattpad novel, and that's enough for me when i don't want to think about anything." y/n laughed, shoveling another spoonful of cookie dough into her mouth. "either that or i watch a concert film or something. i live for live music. hate parties, but i'll go to a good concert any day. that's why i liked racing, you know? not for the fame or the money, but for the travel, the means to an end."

her eyes went wide, and mick was captivated, hanging on to her every word.

"have you heard of one ok rock? probably not, since you didn't mention it when you saw my sweater earlier, but they have this one really good concert film from when they played yokohama stadium, it's called mighty long fall. i saw them live in 2018 on the 'ambitions' tour, so that's a good film as well if you can find it, but mighty long fall is one of my favourite live concerts like ever."

mick was struggling to follow everything, as she seemed to have talked without even breathing, her fingers flying across they keyboard as she searched for 'mighty long fall' on youtube.

he was well and truly smitten with her as she loaded the concert, seemingly skipping to a particularly important part.

"this has to be one of my favoruite songs they've ever done, and it's not even theirs."

mick would have recognized the piano arrangement anywhere. anybody born before two thousand and five would have. the japanese band on the screen was playing an acoustic rendition of 'a thousand miles' by vanessa carlton.

"making my way downtown, walking fast, faces past and i'm homebound."

she was singing off key, but that seemed to be the point as she threw her head back and forth, her hair flying everywhere as she beamed, singing into the metal spoon as if it was a karaoke microphone.

"come on, schumacher. i know you know the words!" she laughed, mick laughing along with her as his face turned pink. "sing it with me!"

and when she looked at him like that, what else was he supposed to do?

---------

and just as quickly as it began, the race of champions weekend was officially over.

gathered in the warm den of the chalet, the drivers milled about and chatted among themselves, jazz music playing in the background as a warm fire crackled in the hearth.

y/n and felipe had placed second in the nations cup as the all-star team, and she seemed to glow from the happiness of the somewhat victory as she stood off to the side with both her teammate and jamie chadwick.

mick couldn't help himself, staring at her with a lovestruck gaze from the other side of the room, where he stood with sebastian and valtteri. mick and y/n had grown infinitely closer over the course of the weekend, but mick hadn't had the courage to ask for her phone number, or to properly take her out on a date.

and soon, he'd lose those chances for good.

"the way i see it, you don't have anything to lose." seb suggested, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. "the worst that could happen is that you made a new friend, who doesn't want to be more than that."

"why not just accept things as they are?" mick whined. "the weekend is almost over anyways!"

"it's never too late for a romantic gesture." valtteri suggested, nodding his head towards where a karaoke machine had been set up by team norway earlier in the night.

and that's when mick knew what he needed to do. with seb and val's help, he managed to get everything rigged, set up and ready to go.

when the music started playing, she knew that it was meant for her, all conversation stopping at that piano arrangement as she stopped to look at the german, hands nervously gripping the microphone as he began to sing.

"making my way downtown, walking fast, faces past and i'm homebound."

jamie broke out into a grin, turning to look the the other female driver. "there's no other person this could possibly be meant for. how did he know you're emotionally attached to this song?"

despite herself, y/n found that she was also starting to sing quietly under her breath.

"staring blankly ahead, just making my way, making a way through the crowd."

felipe nudged her in the side. "go on. you're not going to get another chance."

trying to stop the uncontrollable blush on her face, she kept her eyes cast down as she made her way to where mick was standing. sebastian gave the duo a knowing look as mick wordlessly passed y/n the microphone, shy smiles on both of their faces.

"if i could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by? 'cause you know i'd walk a thousand miles if i could just see you tonight."

neither of them realized how close to each other they had gotten, barely a foot of space between their bodies, faces blushing bright pink as the lyrics faded out to the instrumental.

"mick-" she said softly.

"you don't have to say anything. not right now, not right here. just kiss me."

and that's exactly what she did, the room erupting into cheers as mick's soft lips met hers. she dropped the microphone, feedback echoing around the room as mick held her, both parties smiling into the kiss before mika hakkinen came running over the grab the fallen mic.

"will you go on a date with me?" mick asked, lips swollen and shyness in his tone. "like, a real one this time?"

"yes, mick." she giggled. "of course i will."

Tags: @scuderiamh @libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @sidcrosbyspuck

[merrivia]

I feel like one of the things I enjoy most about the Captive Prince trilogy is where you really glimpse the hidden complexity of the books, those flashes of the engineering under the bonnet which Pacat only allows us glimpses of, here and there. There’s so many moments like that, but I feel like the idea of Auguste as a protector and Laurent’s hero-worship of his brother, has particularly stuck with me and made me want to delve into it more today.

We know Auguste is quite a bit older than Laurent; Laurent was 13, and Auguste 25, when he died at Marlas (Pacat loves her doubling and mirroring; it’s no coincidence to Laurent’s developing feelings for him, that Damen is a mirror image of Auguste in many ways, and symbolically 25 at the start of Captive Prince, like a dark resurrection, living the life Auguste should have had in Laurent’s eyes). We know that Auguste is a doting older brother; allowing Laurent to win against him when they horse raced, that they had brotherly discussions over sexuality and relationships, August giving Laurent advice (sweetly, we can assume Auguste also gave him The Talk, and that Laurent no doubt explained primly that thank you but he had already read all about That). We know that Laurent idolised Auguste, and that it was common knowledge that the two were “devoted” to each other. Even in the mind of the reader, Auguste seems special and golden; we know so little about him, and yet we love him too, especially for how much he loved Laurent. We know that tragically, Damen’s killing of Auguste, metaphorically killed Laurent also- his heart broken by the loss of Auguste compounded with the killing off of his childhood, all of his innocence, and the locking away of all the softer sides of himself, as he is abused and manipulated by his uncle.

I think a particularly heartbreaking part of it all is the rumour of Laurent having unnatural feelings for his brother.

Obviously, the source of this was the Regent, and it goes without saying that the Regent’s corruption is so malignant, that he invented this rumour to take the cleanest, purest love in Laurent’s life and turn it into something disgusting, to undermine Laurent psychologically, to disrupt his grieving process and to manipulate the political landscape. As soon as that rumour was floated, whenever it was, to grieve too much too openly, to try to honour his brother’s memory in any public way, would feed into the rumours of incest (and I am sure the Regent liked the neatly villainous irony of the fact that it is he who had the incestuous desires, and he gets to displace that onto the innocent Laurent). That’s perhaps one of the reasons why Laurent’s grief turns into such rage; firstly, there is the loss, secondly, his grief is manipulated into sexual abuse but thirdly, he was never allowed to openly grieve as he would have liked. Like a wound that festers, Laurent cannot heal as a consequence.

The really tragic thing here is that the Regent got to have Auguste; he took him so completely away from Laurent, that even in death, Laurent was denied his brotherly relationship to him, to completely and utterly emotionally isolate him. The Regent in doing so, got complete control- he could subtly destabilise any hold the memory of Auguste had over the Council and court which would transfer to Laurent, and instead cleave himself to the image of Auguste. He became the only one who gets to mention the perfect golden prince, weaponising him against Laurent, using him to highlight Laurent’s shortcomings, and his own strengths. 

And poor, poor Laurent is just not completely isolated in general, which is bad enough- he also has no-one to even talk to about his brother, it seems (especially someone who he can confide in, who might be the same or similar rank as him, which is what he needs). Even before the incest rumours, that would be a fine piece of manipulation against Laurent- boys are weak and grieve and need to talk about how they feel, where men are strong and keep hold of their emotions. And so any sign of his grieving too much, would weaken Laurent further politically. The only thing that he has then, is revenge. Revenge is his grief. I think in a way, one of the reasons why Laurent could never quite beat his uncle at his own game, was not just because he always underestimated how evil he was, but also how he was always split in two- to revenge himself on Damianos is his only way of holding onto the memory of Auguste, and yet he also needs to beat his uncle, which divided his goals. Yet I also think his rage sustained him, gave him a goal to keep living, to keep training his body hard, when he must have felt so worn out and afraid and helpless against the power of The Regent. In a way, Damen has always kept Laurent alive, whether as a shadowy figure of hate that motivated him, or as a warrior guardian, powerful enough to throw a two handed sword and impale a fellow Akielon to save him or, finally, as the man who loves him and will kill to protect him.

So Laurent’s mother died, and his father paid no real attention to him, and it is clear in the novels, that Auguste’s presence was the one barrier that stood between him and the Regent. Who guarded Laurent’s bedroom door? The Prince’s Guard under Auguste? At first I wondered whether Laurent noticed his uncle’s attentions previous to Marlas; whether in subtle ways, he went to his brother for protection. But that doesn’t fit with the phrasing Laurent uses about himself as a young teenager (”think of the greenest innocent you have ever tumbled”). Incidentally, it is heartbreaking that he cannot see the idea of a youthful boy and/or himself at that age unless it’s on sexual terms; it is a reminder of how to be young for Laurent means to be sexually exploited and how the abuse traumatised him, took away his childhood, and shaped him into this razor-sharp blade of a man in the form of a beautiful prince (it also shows how insidious it is that the Regent keeps calling him a boy, to try and reduce him over and over to the abused child he controlled). So I don’t think Laurent did see it; was too young to see it. In fact, I don’t think Laurent saw what was going to happen, until the first time he was forced onto his knees by the Regent. But I wonder whether Auguste did.

Laurent does mention that Auguste is like Damen-  as Laurent says ”“He had no instinct for deception; it meant he couldn’t recognise it in other people.”. But as I have discussed before, being an honourable warrior doesn’t mean you’re stupid, and the sexual proclivities of the Veretians doesn’t quite fall into the same category as political machinations to me. Even Laurent can recognise that yes, his uncle is a paedophile, a predator, but he can’t seem to believe that the Regent would kill his own brother or kill him till there is stark evidence to prove it. It stands to reason then that Auguste may have never thought the Regent would do as he did, but that he could see the signs of his prurient interest in Laurent. 

This also might tie into Laurent being so beautiful, and how Veretian beauty standards glorify young males (from pre-pubescent onwards). He tells Damen that he has been the recipient of offers for “as long as he could remember”- a highly disturbing statement, which suggests as a minor, Laurent was sexually propositioned over and over. Auguste must have stood in the way of that, silenced the mouths of any man who dared speak about his brother like that. Perhaps just knowing that Auguste would cut the hand off of the man who touched his brother was enough to keep Laurent safe. Did Auguste actually explicitly stop the Regent abusing him, though?

If the Regent’s victims start as young as 11, then that was a few years of sexual interest he may have had in Laurent, which Auguste may have thwarted. And just like Damen wouldn’t hear of a word against Kastor, I wonder whether Auguste knew his father wouldn’t hear a word against the Regent- after all, Aleron trusted his brother’s word so much, he marched his army on to the field at Marlas instead of keeping to the security of his fortress, a tactic that made no sense and led to his assassination. We only see the court of Vere as the Regent’s court too- was he ever so open about his child pets before the death of Aleron? We know he had them, as Paschal was the Regent’s physician and tended to them (and the medical attention they might need to their too-young bodies is another layer of quiet horror), so perhaps we can assume that it was something that everyone knew about, but simply turned a blind eye to. 

My feelings are it could be either way- Auguste may have seen the Regent’s paedophilia and kept him away from Laurent instinctively, or he may have seen him openly display sexual interest and thwarted him deliberately, or he may have simply stood in the way of anyone who tried to get to Laurent and the Regent steered clear as a consequence. We will obviously never get a clear answer on this, so I think what’s more important is simply that Auguste was a barrier and how that feeds into Laurent’s beliefs. The reader can imagine that Auguste would perhaps never have said anything too openly to him about such things (beyond advice...I can picture him sternly telling Laurent to never go anywhere alone with an older man at court or to tell him if anyone said anything inappropriate him or tried to touch him), but Laurent can see that no-one dared harass him before Auguste’s death and then after...well. Abuse at night, we assume, and at Chastillon, and any number of attempts at ‘seductions’ in the day. All Laurent knows is that the abuse wouldn’t have happened had Damen not killed his brother, so in his mind, Auguste as the shining golden protector-hero is so sacrosanct that he cannot, even after all this time, truly believe or accept that Damen beat him. It’s why, when they fight in King’s Rising, Laurent says the “ludicrous” words that Auguste would have “stopped” Damen, when we all know he didn’t (yes there is the argument that 19 year old Damen had not been fighting for hours, was fresh from the sidelines, and that played into his victory, but the point is moot...). Laurent knows what he’s saying is absurd, but Auguste is perhaps semi-mythical to him at this point, this lodestar of an ideal to live up to, the ultimate white knight, brightly alive still in his mind, who would/could/should have saved him.

The Regent’s plan to kill his brother, King Aleron, must have included a secondary plan to kill Auguste, as an obstacle to the throne, even though we don’t know what that was. Damen coming along to kill him, neatly did this for him. I wonder if it added another layer to the victory over his brother and nephew killed, to finally have access to Laurent at, horrifyingly, just the right time, less than a year before true puberty would hit and the Regent’s sexual desire in him would fade. Very little of the inner life of The Regent is revealed to us, everything being layer upon layer of machinations, facade after facade, to hide his utter cruelty, but you do wonder whether this abuse of Laurent made him feel particularly gleeful. Or whether it was simply to kill two birds with one stone- to get a man (boy) underneath you is the ultimate power play, and thus the Regents gets to both enjoy Laurent’s beauty sexually, and set up a dynamic which will ruin Laurent in the present and future and allow the Regent to have a power over him that fits in very nicely to him getting the throne. It is breathtakingly cruel I think, that the ruination of Laurent on a personal level was probably secondary, a mere byproduct of a wider plan.

One of the beautiful things about Damen and Laurent’s relationship is he can talk about Auguste again, even with the memory of his death at Damen’s hands casting a long shadow between them. Laurent does this naturally, almost unthinkingly, before he even admits to himself that they’re in love. I think the reason why is Damen’s sense of morality, his pure, uprightness. As he awkwardly says in response to Laurent trying to make clear that what Govart said was a lie, he never believed that to be true. This is a man to whom incest is unfathomable, where there is no suspicion, no cynicism, no reading into Laurent’s words to try and find the incest that isn’t there because there is no smoke without fire. Laurent finally can talk about how much he loved his brother, without being dragged in the mud for it, restoring it back, openly, in words spoken out loud, to the purity it had.

[zexal-club]

It's time I talked about this major plot point in Zexal Club, as it's really important. It's also one of the first skits I did together with @yukii0nna , so I'm really excited to talk about it! For those who don't know, Zexal Club is a crossover between Winx Club and Yu-Gi-Oh ZEXAL, where Bloom is Yuma and Kari's mother.

Tagging a lot of mutuals and followers since this is pretty important to me, even the ones who probably don't follow this AU much

@yukii0nna @marrondrawsalot @kousaka-ayumu @gritsandbrits @soprinceblizzard @darkicewolfknight @bakawitch

Edit: I'm now also tagging @bibookdemon since you don't seem to know much about this AU or even that it's a thing, which sucks because this is my biggest and even favourite Yu-Gi-Oh ZEXAL AU

Warning, this is longer than I thought.

So basically, Yuma's been spending more time with Winx 2.0 (what me and Yukii call our OCs) recently due to still coping with the shock of learning the truth about what he is. He also starts spending less time with the Numbers Club since he hasn't told them yet because, again, weird way of coping. Tori and Bronk notice and decide to talk to him about it.

Yuma realises what he's doing and decides to introduce his main friends(Numbers Club) to his other friends (Winx 2.0). They happily agree.

After school, Yuma calls all of Winx 2.0 + Cathy if tomorrow, they can come to a place he picked so they can all meet each other. Everyone happily agrees. After the call, Yuma and Astral discuss whether or not Yuma should tell his friends his secret. Astral thinks he should, but Yuma's still nervous.

Unbeknownst to either of them, things won't go as smoothly as they hope.

See, other than Winx 2.0, Mari is friends with this boy named Aiden. And Aiden's father, Laurent, is, well, a control freak and a jerk, who thinks Aiden's friends are a bad influence on him and corrupting him. He's thinking of how to keep Aiden away from them, when he's approached by someone: Dark Mist.

Dark Mist offers to make sure Aiden never sees those 'bad influences' again in exchange for his help. He explains how there's this boy keeping secrets from his friends, and he needs said boy out of his way. If he uses his magic to help him corrupt said friends, he'll gladly help. Laurent accepts.

The next day, none of Winx 2.0 + Cathy are able to come, obviously, thanks to Laurent and Dark Mist. Jade's parents said no, Leo got extra training sprung on him, Kikyo had to go for a check-up, Mari got detention, one of them got sick, I think Casey-look, it's been a while, okay?- etc. Yuma has to go and tell his friends the bad news.

Tori, Bronk, Caswell, and Flip are shocked and a bit hurt by this, but are understanding. After everyone leaves, Dark Mist and Laurent get to the next stage of their plan. With their powers combined, they're able to make a corrupted card for each member of the Numbers Club, which they can now use on them since their negative emotions are at their fullest. They give them to the 4.

The next day, Kikyo is back and at school, so Yuma decides to introduce her to the rest of his friends at school during lunch break (Casey and Jason are still unavailable). He manages to actually do it this time, and things go alright enough at first, even if they're a little on edge thanks to the cards' influence (Flip the most). Then, Bronk notices Kikyo's pendant, and she tells him about it. After that, either Bronk takes it or she gives it to him for a bit, that part's a little foggy, but he turns it on, and it points at her. And also then bc of the cards, but I'm not 100% sure. Anyways, she takes it back and brushes it off as being broken. They mention how she should probably fix it, since she could be mistaken for a magi (what magical beings are called in this AU), and that would be bad because magi are bad.

Yep, the corruption made them racist.

Yuma is shocked by this, as none of them have ever shown signs of hating magi. This makes him even more scared to tell his friends he's a fairy, along with making Kikyo uncomfortable. After the whole introduction, he asks The Numbers Club what the hell's gotten into them, as they've never had anything against magi before. They just tell him magi are dangerous and evil.

After school, they wonder why Yuma was so defensive on what they were saying, along with why Kikyo seemed so anxious. They decide to spy on her.

They follow her, going into an empty and probably abandoned building, where she practices her magic. That's when they realise she's a witch. Since their minds have become messed up because of the cards, they decide to record and expose her as 'revenge' for 'stealing' Yuma.

The next day, everyone is looking at Kikyo weirdly. Yuma notices and asks her what's wrong. Suddenly, some jerk pours water on Kikyo, commenting on how she didn't melt or something, causing Yuma to get angry and ask what their problem is. The jerk shows Yuma the recording, and Yuma is shocked that someone found out. Jerk is like, 'You already knew?!' And they fight. Mr. Kay breaks it up and is on Kikyo and Yuma's side. They all go to class.

Throughout the school day, Kikyo is constantly bullied and harassed, with kids throwing spitballs at her, some girls hiding her skirt, so she ends up wearing pants, and some even get violent, with her having a bunch of marks on her face. One student (Cough Miyuki cough) even cut her hair. Yuma uses his magic to heal her, though I think Kikyo used her own magic to regrow her hair, and the two of them think of who exposed Kikyo. Then, a certain someone appears: Shark!

He tells them he knows who did it and will tell them. When asked why, he replies that even he thinks what they're doing is cruel. He then tells them it was Tori, Bronk, Flip, and Caswell, which shocks them. Yuma decides to confront them, and Kikyo goes with him. Shark tags along since, in his own words, he's got nothing better to do.

Yuma goes to the 4 of them. They ask him why he's still with Kikyo after she was outed, and Yuma replies, 'I already knew'. Tori shouts, 'And you stayed with her?!'. Yuma asks why they would do any of this, and once again, where this hate for magi came from. They try to convince him Kikyo's not worth it.

Yuma then asks, 'If I was a magi, would you still care about me?' They wonder why he would ask that. He tells them to just answer. They say yes.

Yuma then shows his magic, shocking them and Shark. (Originally he didn't reveal he was a magi until later, but we did a revision and liked this reveal better.)

Tori grabs Kikyo and asks what she did to Yuma, to which Yuma separates her from Kikyo, saying she did nothing. He finally tells them the truth: His mother was a fairy, and so is he.

Tori processes this for a bit, then starts laughing like any good anime villain. Yuma asks why she's laughing, but she doesn't answer and just keeps going. Frustrated and angry by everything, he slaps her.

I'm seriously considering changes that detail because HOLY SHIT I DON'T THINK THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA ANYMORE.

Tori stops and is quiet for a moment, then says, '...I see'. Yuma tells the Numbers Club he's transferring with Kikyo, and their friendship is over - again, considering changing this part- then tries to leave with Kikyo. Suddenly though, they're stopped by a vine.

Tori, Bronk, Flip, and Caswell have become fully corrupted, and the cards also gave them dark powers of their own. Yuma quickly uses his magic to destroy the vine and manages to escape with Kikyo and Shark. When they get away, they think about what happened. Kikyo remembers their eyes seemed different, and the 3 realise something must've corrupted them. They decide they need to hide somewhere and not their homes because the 4 could look for them their. They go to this abandoned house near-ish to the school that Shark knows about (fanfic logic, am I right?), and try to think about what happened. Shark gets supplies so they can survive. After a while, as they try to figure out how the 4 were corrupted, someone comes to help them: Aiden! Yuma's like, 'Oh, I know you! Mari told me!' He tells them it was his father who did it, but he had help from someone he doesn't know. Kikyo asks who could have a grudge against them and can corrupt people, and Yuma realises, 'Oh no, it's 96!!' And then explains the whole Numbers problem to Aiden. They decide to call Mari to help, since by now, she can come.

A while after, or even the next day, Mari arrives. She sends her pixie, Tika, to spy on the Numbers Club to find the source of the corruption. She goes and sees it's from the cards. She goes back and tells them.

They all decide to confront the Numbers Club head-on. Shark is told to stay back since he doesn't have any real defence against magic. He does.

Yuma, Mari, Kikyo, and Aiden go to The Numbers Club. Well, actually, I'm not sure if Aiden also went, but let's just say now he did. Of course, this leads to a fight.

Yuma and Mari dual transformation!!!

The two respective teams fight, and our heroes manage to win! Yuma uses his magic + the power of friendship to defeat the corruption placed on his friends. He then flies up and yells at 96 to reveal himself, which he does. 96 warns Yuma that this isn't the end, and Yuma warns him back that if he ever hurts his friends again, he'll tear him apart. 96 leaves.

After all that, Yuma manages to properly introduce his two friend groups, and they actually get along! The Numbers Club apologised to Kikyo for what they've done, and Kikyo forgives them since it wasn't really their fault. They all hang out, and plans are made to change schools since their current one SUCKS.

Whoo, I'm finally done!! That was WAY longer than I expected. It was also really nostalgic visiting this whole plot. What do you all think?

[dalmascan-requiem]

Lente's Hymn: Resistance - Chapter 6

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Perhaps it takes one to know one, or perhaps someone just needs to state the obvious.

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Read on AO3 or keep reading after the jump

content warnings: none

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

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Lord, someone get through to my idiot boys, please

Also Cid totally did this to Nero and he's a bit like "oh gods I'm not letting this happen again", this is a CidxNero divorced dads household

"You've been around camp for a while now. What happened?"

Laurent looked up from cleaning his gunblade, and tsked at the Garlean staring down at him. "You. What do you want?"

"I have a name, you know–"

"I didn't ask for it."

"Well, you're certainly agreeable company, aren't you?"

Laurent frowns as he sets down a few gears in a huff. "What do I need to do for you to leave me alone, Cid?"

"Oh, so you do know my name! I'm touched." Cid sat across from Laurent, an obnoxiously bright smile on his face. Hells, what is with this man?

"You're in a good mood for someone whose pupil has been abducted."

Cid's smile falters slightly. "You can be as rude as you want, I'm not leaving until we chat."

There's only one reason he'd be so interested in me, of all people… Laurent glares at Cid for a moment longer, before sighing and wiping the grease off his hands. "...Fine. Not as if I'm doing anything else."

Cid nods, then turns away slightly, staring at a spot on a tent. "No one knows anything about Kris. It's always been more than being a private person–if anyone tried to ask about him, he'd always steer the conversation elsewhere. Or just silently glared until they went away. I wonder where he learned that from…"

Laurent rolls his eyes, and Cid chuckles before continuing. "I… know a bit more about Kris, though it wasn't on purpose. When Livia Junius came to Eorzea–"

"Livia? The Witch of Dalmasca?" Laurent doesn't raise his voice, but anger is writ plain on his face.

Cid nods gravely. "When she came to Eorzea… she captured the leaders of the Scions… and killed the rest. Kris was away on a mission when the attack happened, but when he returned…" He shook his head. "Eventually, the two fought as Eorzea pushed against the Garleans. When he confronted her, Kris had forgotten about our linkpearl, and mentioned the Barheim Incident and the comrades he lost…"

"...She's dead, then?"

"Yes. Good riddance." Cid gives a frustrated wave before continuing. "Anyway, he asked me not to tell anyone about him being Dalmascan, and I'm no fool–I wasn't about to face the wrath of the Warrior of Light by sharing an easily kept secret.

"But I felt for Kris. It was clear this whole business of saving the world weighed heavily on him. Nor did it help when the Eorzean Alliance turned against him, and he saw more of his allies killed. Those grieving are quick to point fingers at the person they think should have stopped it…" 

Cid frowned, though there was a hint of sadness to it. "I tried to offer what support I could, not only on the behalf of the Ironworks but… well, as a friend. He was always reluctant to take the latter, though."

Laurent sighs softly, crossing his arms. Eir, you've gotten stronger… you pretended not to care, but you always tried to protect those you cared about. But you always took it so hard when you couldn't. It's little wonder then… He thought back to their reunion, and how Kris said the lies were to protect Laurent–and remembered the pain he failed to hide in his eyes, the pain he ignored when swept up in his own emotions.

"Why do you think you're here?" Cid's pointed question brought Laurent out of his ruminations. "Here at camp, cleaning your gunblade and counting inventory instead of being on the frontlines? You're clearly capable of holding your own out there."

Laurent knitted his brow. "I thought he was upset I didn't make it in time to save Mikoto…"

"Well, Kris was upset, but not at you. He blames himself. He always does." Cid's expression is a mix of sadness and exasperation. "He just doesn't want the same to happen to you. He doesn't want to see you hurt."

Laurent looks at Cid and gives a frustrated sigh. "I understand, I do, but–"

"Would you have done anything different?"

"...What?" 

"If it were Kris that was at risk of being hurt, and you had the power to stop it, even if it meant leaving him or making him hate you… Would you do it?"

Laurent's eyes widen and he quickly breaks Cid's gaze. Would I…? I already did… at the village… He clutched at a crossed arm with his hand, staring at the rings on his fingers.

"Seems I've hit a pain point. I won't pry." 

Gods, this man, he's so strange… Why does he care so much? "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I had some similar issues, and the two of you are idiots that'll never talk to each other. I'm just pushing things along so I don't have to keep watching you two squabble. It's annoying." 

Laurent almost snaps back at the Garlean, but stops and chuckles instead. He sounds just like Gemna used to. She wasn't wrong…

Cid raises an eyebrow. "Not quite the reaction I expected from you."

"Ah, it's just… you reminded me of someone. My old mentor." Laurent shakes his head, then picks up one of the gunblade's gears again, wiping it carefully with a cloth. "...Thank you, for caring about Kris."

"That's what friends are for, are they not?" Cid looks at Laurent through the side of his eye. "Even ones that are incredibly rude whenever you talk to them."

Laurent rolled his eyes as he began cleaning another gear. "You're the one that bothered me."

"...How in the hells anyone puts up with you is a mystery–"

A sudden commotion cuts Cid's retort off, and they both look towards the soldiers rushing past. Strange, what's happening? It can't be an attack, it's too calm…

"Best see what's happening this time." Cid stands up, stretching his back as he looks back at Laurent. "You coming?"

"I suppose I must." Looking at the disassembled gunblade with annoyance, he stands up and heads to the command tent.

~~~

"Settle down, everyone!"

Kris cast tired eyes over the gaggle of soldiers at the command tent. Word spreads fast… He could hear some of them talking about how the 'southern front is won' and how it was 'time to retake the Castrum'. It's about time, really.

These past few weeks have been a blur for the Warrior of Light. The battles were nigh neverending, but he managed to carve a path through the Garlean forces and secured a route to Castrum Lacus Litore. We'll be there soon, Mikoto. Just hang on a little longer.

Something catches Kris's eye, and he turns his gaze to spot fuchsia eyes staring at him from the crowd… and a mess of silver hair right next to him. Godsdamnit Cid, what did you do this time?

"Alright, listen up!" Bajsaljen's voice cuts through the chattering, and the soldiers fall silent to listen to their leader. "It was hard-fought, but the time has finally come–it's time to drive the Garleans out of the Alermuc Fortress and free the Southern Front from their tyranny!"

Kris keeps a straight face as cheer rings out from the crowd. Hard-fought for who, exactly…?

"Tomorrow, at dawn, we lay siege to the castrum. Make your preparations now, and get some rest. Dismissed."

The soldiers quickly disperse, eager to prepare for the assault. Kris sighs. I can't shake this exhaustion, but soon… Once Mikoto's safe, he'll rest. Surely, the Resistance can keep it together a day or two without him. First, though…

He quickly scans the crowd again, and spotting Laurent, he works his way around the soldiers to him. "Blade Elja."

"I–Yes?" Laurent quickly turns around and fails to meet Kris's gaze. Huh, what's with him? No matter…

"Have you rested enough? I'll need you when we march on the Castrum tomorrow."

"...I see. I'm useful now, am I? I'm shocked you're not asking me to defend the camp instead."

"I never said you weren't useful. I only said I needed you to rest."

Laurent doesn't bother to hide his frustration. "Fine. Yes, I'm well-rested. I'll make sure no Garlean stabs you in the back tomorrow."

"You needn't be so testy." I'm far too tired for this… "I'll see you at dawn, then." Kris turns around and makes for his tent before the other Viera could respond.

~~~

Cid watches the two talk from a short distance away. He cannot hear their words, but their body language clearly indicates that their conversation isn't pleasant.

Gods… they really are idiots…

[echoingalaxies]

Content/CW: branding, injury and blood, past torture, medical whump, team whump, post rescue

Words: 2608

This isn’t a chapter of anything. It’s more like a scene from the middle of a (mostly) non-existent story. Since I don’t introduce the characters properly here, have a little guide:

Josephine: head medic / Otto: caretaker / Laurent: whumpee / Frankie: field medic / Riina: team leader / other mentioned names less relevant

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“Are you sure?” Josephine looked hesitant. She had her arms folded across her chest. “It won’t be pretty. Maybe we should wait until morning, when the others get here.”

Otto ignored her question.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from the sleeping boy behind her, his body moving slowly with deep, steady breaths. It was slightly assuring to see him be so calm, momentarily unaware of all the agony he must’ve been put through, but Otto couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling caused by Josephine’s secretiveness.

Laurent’s broken fingers were now in a cast. The wounds on his arms had been bandaged. His previously long, beautiful hair had been buzzed nearly as short as Otto’s. The rest of him was covered under a light blue blanket.

That was what Josephine was preparing him for. To reveal whatever horrors were hidden underneath.

Otto had been the first one to inspect Laurent’s condition during the car ride home, but hadn’t had the opportunity to see under his clothes. They’d been glued to his skin by dried blood, but Frankie had assured him Laurent wouldn’t bleed out on them during the half an hour it took for them to safely return home.

Not a second went by Otto wouldn’t have praised the angel that Josephine was in his mind, for she had been there waiting for them when they’d brought Laurent in, dressed in scrubs and ready for action. Otto had spent the following hours sitting in the hallway right behind the hospital room door, his mind replaying images of Laurent’s beaten face like a never-ending slideshow. He had gotten himself through two panic attacks. Frankie, Hayden, and even Riina had stopped by every couple of hours to see if he had been let in yet, staying for a minute to console him each time, offering him food and water.

Otto had denied. Nothing mattered to him until he’d know Laurent was okay.

Whatever was under that blanket, whatever Josephine tried to protect him from, he had considered during those past hours.

“Otto.”

“Just… just let me see, Jo.”

Josephine gave him a look, disapproving his demanding tone, but stepped back to stand right next to Laurent’s bed, and with a final nod of confirmation from Otto, pulled aside the blanket.

Otto had experienced a fair share of pain in his life. The tendon on his calf had once been sliced, he’d been stabbed, yet neither of those things had been as efficient to bring him to his knees than the sight currently in front of him. His knees hit the tiled floor with a hard thud, but he instantly scrambled back on his feet, trying to get away, take back everything he’d thought about how he could take it.

He had noted Laurent lying on his side, and assumed there must have been injuries on his back. The guess had been accurate, but the specifics of what those injuries could have been like was where he’d been gravely mistaken. He’d assumed scars similar to the ones on Laurent’s arms. Bruises or stab wounds.

But this…

Rows upon rows of identical burn marks covered Laurent’s back like a pattern printed on a fabric, all the way from his neck to his pelvis, shaped like a coat of arms with something pointy in the middle. The skin surrounding the burns glowed fiercely red from infections.

Otto didn’t need to take another look to know what it was. He’d know the symbol from anywhere.

After Laurent had been taken three months ago, the team had received an anonymous letter, only containing this very same symbol, pressed on the paper in blood. The laboratory had confirmed the blood belonged to Laurent.

Riina hadn’t talked for four days after that, and anyone who had tried to talk to her had had a knife thrown at them. Everybody else had expressed their devastation in slightly healthier ways.

They had fought these people enough times. They had lost team members to them. Now, once again.

Otto’s skin crawled.

The Crowns, and their family crest, forever burned deep into Laurent’s skin, dozens of times.

“Otto?”

Otto’s vision was blurred by fury. He squeezed his trembling hands into fists, nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He took a reluctant glance at Laurent again, and noticed Josephine had pulled the blanket over his shoulders once more.

Good. Never let those repulsive marks see daylight ever again.

“Otto, I need you to breathe.” Josephine’s voice was coming from somewhere afar, and when there was a sudden touch on his forearm, though likely intended to be comforting, Otto flinched away. The initial shock was now rapidly making room for rage unlike he had ever known.

“Breathe?” He must have been yelling, because Josephine was shushing him, but Otto couldn’t contain it. Had there been something within reach he could just grab and break – there were supplies on Josephine’s medical cart, but no one was allowed to touch them if they wished to walk out alive – he would’ve smashed it to the ground.

He had no idea where to put all this anger.

Otto pointed at Laurent’s covered back. “Look at him! There’s… there’s like a hundred of them! He looks like a fucking Louis Vuitton bag!”

“It’s terrible, I know, but you have to lower your voice,” Josephine said. If she was feeling any distress about the situation, she didn’t show it. “If you need to lash out, by all means, I understand, but do it anywhere but here.”

As if on cue, Laurent let out a small whine, and Otto fell silent in an instant. He held his breath until Josephine, who was by Laurent’s side in a second, gave him a thumbs up signalling Laurent hadn’t woken up. She marched back to Otto and grabbed his arm, this time with way more force, and dragged him out of the room.

The hallway was empty, but despite it being late at night, Otto could hear noises from elsewhere in the building. He could vaguely make out Riina’s voice from her office two stories above, screaming at someone. He could hear Frankie and Hayden from their bedroom at the end of the hallway.

He was envious of all of them. He wanted to shout. He wanted to be the one in bed with his lover instead of witnessing his suffering.

“I swear I’m going to kill them,” Otto spat the second Josephine closed the door behind her. “I’m going to rip them apart, all of them.”

“Yeah, you’re not going to make it to the next mission’s team with that attitude.” Josephine leaned her back to the door. She had dark circles under her eyes, and Otto realised how exhausted she must be, having worked relentlessly to treat Laurent, for hours in the middle of the night, mostly alone. Frankie might have been helping her for a moment at some point. “Riina has asked to see him as soon as he wakes up to gather information about the captors before creating a plan.”

“But we already know who did this,” Otto said. He let out a hollow laugh. “They’ve literally put it all over him. We’ve known it was them even before.”

“Sure, but Laurent might’ve heard a lot of valuable things we need to take into consideration before going after them.”

“I wanna go.”

Josephine looked at him almost pitifully. “You’re too close to this, love. Riina barely let you join the rescue crew, so she won’t let you join the searches. And not that I have a say in it, but I think that’s for the best. Laurent’s going to need someone around when he wakes up.”

“He’ll have you –”

“Someone he knows,” Josephine said. “I joined after he was taken. He’s never met me. He’s going to want a familiar face around. Someone to calm him down as I have to poke at his injuries. We’re short on anaesthetics and won’t get a new supply until the end of the week, so you better be there to hold his hand through all the pain we won’t be able to help him with.” She paused, eyes fixating on Otto’s poorly bandaged shoulder peeking from under his torn shirt. “You need any? I’ll gladly give you some since we’ve still got some.”

Otto shook his head. He had completely forgotten about his own injury. The pain in his body was secondary to the one in his mind. It couldn’t compare to a single thing Laurent had been through. “It’s fine. Save it for him.”

Josephine didn’t look pleased. “Can I at least take a look?”

“You should go help Laurent inste–”

“For heaven’s sake, Otto,” Josephine groaned. She straightened her back, suddenly standing almost as tall as Otto did. She took a keychain out of the pocket of her scrubs and began to unlock the door opposite to the hospital room. “I’m not asking anymore. Let me fix you before you die from an infection, because if you always keep acting like this, some day you will. In you go.”

She pushed the door open and pointed inside. Otto stood still, glancing between her and the hospital room door.

“Laurie –”

“Is asleep and will manage a moment alone.”

Josephine crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows. Otto still wanted to refuse, but he knew if he did, Josephine would likely sneak into his room to stitch him up in his sleep. As kind-hearted as she was, she’d rather tie her patient to a chair to finish a procedure than let anyone walk away from her hurt.

“Be quick then.”

He had been to Josephine’s office a few times before. It was where she stored extra medical supplies, and performed minor procedures that didn’t require space for the patient to lie down.

“Why on earth didn’t Frankie take care of that?” Josephine asked as Otto sat down on the stool. Otto glanced down. He had bled through his shirt and the bandages he had quickly wrapped around his shoulder and upper arm while still on field. It had been a dumb, avoidable injury. They hadn’t come across a single soul while rescuing Laurent – Otto had managed to cut himself on the rusty, crooked fence around the mansion.

“I didn’t let her.”

Josephine let out a long sigh. She flicked her hair over her shoulders and tied it on a low ponytail, and ordered Otto to take off his shirt while she washed her hands. Moving his arm up and down, Otto realised how much in pain he actually was. He bit his cheeks to stop himself from gasping.

“You’re going to kill yourself at this rate,” Josephine said, starting to peel the bloodsoaked bandages off Otto’s skin. “This is deep. You have to let people take care of you next time.” 

Otto felt a pang of shame. Josephine was clearly worried, and he hadn’t meant to stress her out any more than she already was.

“Thank you,” he said quietly as Josephine began cleaning the wound. “And… Thank you for helping him.”

From the corner of his eye he could see how Josephine half-smiled.

“Do you only ever think everything through him? Did anyone ever tell you you’re allowed to think about yourself once in a while?”

Otto didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to for Josephine to know the answer. Her face turned serious again, and she slightly shook her head.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “Patching up someone unconscious is easy. I can’t tell what he’ll be like when he wakes up. I pray they haven’t broken his soul like they did to his body, but either way he’s been through hell on Earth.”

Otto thought back to the dungeon they had found Laurent in, hazy but conscious, shackled to the ground. The memory of Laurent crawling away from the team like he didn’t know them, like he was afraid, hurt like a knife. Laurent had passed out almost as soon as he’d been carried to the car. From fear, pain, or exhaustion, or possibly a combination of any, Otto didn’t know. His cries and pleads to not hurt him still echoed in his head.

“It isn’t over yet,” he said in a lifeless voice. A wave of exhaustion washed over him. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep next to Laurent, his lively and loving Laurent. He wanted him to be okay.

Josephine frowned, taking notice of Otto’s tone. “This isn’t your fault. You know that?”

Otto shook his head. He shut his eyes, trying to breathe through the guilt.

Josephine gave up cleaning his shoulder and kneeled in front of him, squeezing his hands.

“Look at me,” she said, waiting patiently until Otto’s eyes found hers. Her hands felt cold against his skin, and he could feel her steady pulse from her fingertips. “Those Crown people – they’re to blame. That Michael guy I replaced, he is to blame. Not you. You didn’t know.”

Otto winced at the mention of the old medic’s name.

Josephine tried to be sweet, but she was wrong. She was new, only been with them for two months, and she didn’t know everything. It had been all his fault. He’d trusted the wrong person. He’d made enemies, he’d been their target, and Laurent had sacrificed himself to protect him.

Otto sniffled, hanging his head. “I trusted Michael.”

“I’m sure all the others did too.”

Josephine held his hands until his breathing evened out and he managed to give him a convincing enough smile affirming he was okay. He let Josephine finish patching him up without protesting. He even accepted a pill, not stopping to ask what it was.

Half an hour later, he flicked on the lights to his room. His and Laurent’s room.

He had tried to plead with Josephine to get to sleep in the bed next to Laurent’s in the hospital room, but Josephine had been unbending. Deep down Otto understood her reasoning, but as he lay down on their bed, alone for yet another night, he gravely considered sneaking in to sit beside Laurent until morning and deal with the consequences later.

The alarm would wake him up in a few hours. The team would have an early meeting regarding the previous day’s operation, then assemble a crew of a few of them who would go and seek out the people responsible for what had been done to Laurent.

Laurent would wake up and be heard.

The crew would prepare.

Otto would not.

Josephine had been right. He needed rest. He needed to be there for Laurent. The medicine Josephine had given him had been a great help in calming the storm inside of him, and with most of the rage gone, staying behind and getting to take care of Laurent had started to sound like the best possible thing. Isn’t that what he’d been praying for months? To be with him again? Why had he been so eager to leave his side at the first given chance?

Otto hugged Laurent’s pillow against his chest. It had been so long since they had been together. He just had to wait for a bit more, until morning, when they would finally get to talk again. Otto would hold his hand. He would never let him out of his sight.

Yet before all of that, there was one more night to tackle, undoubtedly either entirely sleepless or full of nightmares.

The Crown crest might have been permanently burned on Laurent’s skin, but Otto felt like it’d also been carved on the insides of his eyelids, because it was all he could see when he closed his eyes.

[backwaterscum]

@lastsongbird sent: you don’t believe me. ► from here.

Briefly, Daryl's eyes slip to where Laurent is sleeping behind the cover of his tent. It's nothing professional-- the tent is built from the classic method of rope, sticks, and cloth-- but it serves its purpose protecting the boy from the elements of the forest. It provides enough of a wall that Daryl doesn't worry about the light of their low fire disturbing him, too.

The tent does not, however, keep from sound. And Daryl remembers quite clearly how much Laurent loathes it whenever the people he cares for have even minor disagreements without him.

So his voice is low when he mumbles: "Does my opinion matter that much?"

Anna has been travelling with them for over a week now. For over a week they've been walking along the river (Laurent cut the boat free of its bonds a day into their travels, and Daryl had gotten so angry at a child who'd simply been sad he'll never forgive himself for it), and in that time Daryl has been teaching not only Laurent how to make it out here, but Anna too. Though some things-- like the self-defence lessons-- have given her tools to fight him, Daryl had been more concerned with the fact that teaching her about the world out here also gave her tools to help. Anna can help them fish now, and she can help keep watch at night without missing all her shots. She can even set up the campfire without him or Azlan, which reduces the time Daryl needs for dinner and allows Azlan to scout the perimetre with ease. All these things, and all the little ones in-between, all contribute to efficiency and convenience-- a boon in context of caring for a growing boy. For Laurent's sake, teaching the enemy how to do right by him outweighs what personal prejudice Daryl might hold against her.

In most scenarios, this should be fine. People have tolerated other people for much less than the proper development of a clearly sheltered child. But tonight, warmed by the fire, Anna had mentioned being grateful, and that Daryl had somehow contributed to this, and it had made his heart twist in his chest.

The whole thing skews in a direction so personal Daryl isn't sure what to think of it. It's easier to think of what this arrangement means to Laurent instead of himself, in which Anna is a much needed adult in a world built to kill children. In Daryl's case, he doesn't know what to make of her-- she had pointed a gun at them, and then to Quinn right after. In what situation could someone like that have any loyalties? And in what ways could she ever hope to prove them? Despite the things they've done together, they haven't encountered any of the Pouvoir just yet, and Daryl isn't confident Anna wouldn't turn him in to save her own skin.

A week spent with anybody, much less anybody like him, isn't enough for anyone to change-- not after being trapped by a man who turned women into trophies for as long as Daryl assumes she had been. It took him years just to shake the voice of his father from his head, and even then there are moments William Dixon still whispers at him. And there are days, too, where that little voice wins (and it kills him everyday that Laurent had to pay the price for a single moment of weakness).

Lips pressing together, Daryl shakes his head. No, it ain't me you're thankful for. "If you ask me, how you feel now's all you.

"All I did was teach you to pull your own weight." He blows into his hands, then holds them out towards the fire. "You're the one who kept gettin' back up after I knocked you on your ass.

"Ain't no small thing."

[peachjagiya]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachjagiya/747364288697696256/if-we-are-sharing-controversial-bts-fashion?source=share

i dislike dior for jimin sooo much omg most of their clothes are so bulky and ill-fitting. i think the campaign you're referencing was fine but his styling in the shoots for w korea and gq korea was 👎🏻 he looks so much better in vogue and elle korea since those were for tiffany so he didn't have to wear dior.

i find valentino for yoongi a bit boring too but at least they did a custom design for him for the d-day tour so points for that. i hate how if a famous western celeb is an ambassador for a brand you can expect lots of custom designs but for kpop idols it's so rare :/

I mean it when I say I don't want to be a controversial opinion blog but my goodness, the W and GQ lighting was absolutely dreadful which didn't help. I don't know how you manage to make Jimin look like this.

I'd really like to see him in something that was more reflective of his sunshiney kind soul. A little more playful? I mentioned Maison Margiela but like Miu Miu or Moschino too. Or if he does want to escape the cutesy, Saint Laurent for a bit of that Yet To Come Busan drapey black shirt vibe. He looked unreal in that.

Like HELP. LOOK AT HIM.

Sorry, distracted. 🫠

Actually now I'm thinking... funnily enough, Celine would be a nice boy-next-door-but-sexy fit for Jimin one day if they ever want another member or Taehyung leaves with Hedi.

Thanks anon! 💜

[magicalyaku]

August felt soo long. At first, it was great with my vacation and a successful convention and great books and then reality came crashing back in with developments at work that left me reeling for a bit. I'm bad with change. /D Anyway, on to the books! I had a lot of train time this month, so there's quite a few.

Slippery Creatures, Subtle Blood, The Sugared Game (The Will Darling Adventures 1-3) (KJ Charles): Ooh, these took me by surprise! I read two of the author's other books last month and needed something light and easy for my train trips. These were so much more delightful than I expected. I read all 3 of them within five days. Fun! Adventure! Intrigue! Characters I actually like! No really, I loved Will and his attitude. Sure, he has kind of a short temper and resorts to violence quickly, but … everyone deserved it! (And it's just a book.) This is my fantasy, you know. Actually spitting people in their face when they annoy me. Actually telling them off no matter the consequences. Hah. I guess, this is why I like this sort of character. (The Tarot Sequence's Brand and All for the Game's Andrew come to mind … Interestingly, just like Kim in here their partners are lying little shit's as well. And seen from that angle, Laurent and Damen of Captive Prince fit that category as well. I'm starting to see patterns in what I like to read. :'D) So anyway, I had a lot of fun reading this series! <3

Lose you to find me (Erik J. Brown): I have things to say. 8D First of all, yes, it's cute. It made me smile when my day was shit and while the characters had their annoying phases I'm glad it turned out how it did in the end. Before reading, though, I was so disappointed it was just a contempory romance. After All that's left in the world with it's postapocalyptic but not too outlandish setting I was hoping I'd get more of that "a little different". Yeah, didn't work out, but the pain eased a little because the book was nice actually and we reconciled for real with author's afterword. And to be fair, usually, I'm all in when authors do different things with each book instead of writing the same all over again, so I have to give him credit for this. But there's still one more thing I have to mention. Why is there no content warning for SEVERED BODY PARTS?! Like what the hell seriously. I'm not squeamish usually but one of my coworkers cut off a part of his finger permanently at the beginning of the year, so this was waaay too real to me. A warning would have been appreciated. /D

Prince in Disguise (Perilous Courts 2) (Tavia Lark): More stuff that's easy to read. I liked the first volume better because the stakes were higher but it was still pretty okay. I definitely like how close these volumes are in timeline and story while still being separate adventures. I wish Whisper's mission in this would have had a little more impact but well, it is what it is. (I think I just like Whisper more than Bell or Rakos 8D). Also new mascot animal. Cute! I wonder if there'll be one in volume 3 as well … 8D

Afterglow (Golden Boys 2) (Phil Stamper): After Lose you to find me I was in the mood for more contemporary YA and as it turns out the themes in this one are similar. High school graduation, college applications, self-discovery. It also felt very American to me. As a European reading books like this is always like a cultural study. :'D I think, what I liked most about Golden Boys was its quiet tone. It had its dramatic moments but, at least in my memory overall, it was more calm and understated and while I love my adventure stories reading something nice and calm was a good change of pace. And the sequel takes it even one step further. While there's anxiety towards the future it's never the kind of overwhelming where I have to squeeze my eyes shut and take a moment to calm my nerves before I can continue reading. 8D In terms of content this works because it's a sequel and we already know everyone and their previous struggles. I have a lot of respect for the writing process. Juggling four boys and the timeline? Ugh. And yeah, I liked the book and the paths the boys take. All these different perspectives on life. It's not just another "where's the next party" and "oh he doesn't like me what should i do" but focusses on the characters and their indivual worries and their friendship. It's nice and it's warm. :)

Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston (Esme Symes-Smith): Well … I wish I liked this better than I did. The story is fine, the characters are fine (in comparison to the next book below they a stellar), the themes are important and I can see what it wants to do and most of it it does pretty well, but … Yes, in order to overthrow a system you first need to establish it. But the first third of the book was hard to get through as the world Callie steps into is very rigid in its rules surrounding gender and stuff and it's making Callie hurt, angry and defensive and even though I knew it would eventually lead to a better place, it was making me angry as well and I get angry easily everytime I step outside, I don't really need that in my books. It gets better once the kids actually meet for real and spend more time with each other. But there's the other part that I didn't like: There's something jarring about the writing style. Like bumps on a smooth road - the more bumps we ride over the more annoying they get. It happened most noticably with distances and the passage of time. The hole that Callie's mother left in her heart took years to grow over, but never fully healed. But they've only been away from said mother for two years. When Callie confronts Peran, Papa draws them backwards, Neal steps between them, yet Peran's face is so close, they can see coloured specks in his irises. He's also way taller than them, so how does that work? At one point I wondered if the author might have less visual imagination power than I do because all the descriptions of distances around the castle, the town, the bridge and the forest just felt jumbled to me. (Or maybe I was just not reading well.) Last example: Callie and Edwyn circle around the dragon and attack their back with swords and it's said in a single simple sentence like it's nothing. But that dragon must be huge, because their face is as large as a human, and also it was flying a few minutes earlier and directly afterwards it's said how there's fire all around them. But yeah, apparently that swing was super easy to do, so one sentence is enough to say it happened. It just felt weird and it happened so often. And I feel bad for picking at a book for kids with a good cause but damn. All these things are so easy to make better and more coherent. :I

The Last Fallen Moon (Gifted Clans 2) (Graci Kim): Ugh, I don't know, this might be the first middle grade book I read where I'd say "I'm too old for this." Not really a fan of the humor and the attempted quirkiness, the pop culture references (and how it basically says that all (Korean?) celebrities are witches which I find actually offensive. Pretty sure none of the kids reading these books will have any magical abilities, so they won't ever make it to stardom or what no matter how hard they try? Hmm.) It was also hard to be patient when things are so obvious and still get treated like a big revelation pages after (The Stairbucks toilets?!) And the characters felt so bland to me. I couldn't tell you a single interesting thing about any of them. Things got better towards the end, when everything starts to fall into place instead of being a string of small tasks that can never be completed because there's suddenly some new issue. The two things I liked are that Riley gains a brother rather than a love interest (or a brother who is a love interest … 8D) and that her sister has an active part this time. Will I read the next installment? …. Probably not?

Waiting for Godot (Samuel Beckett): Oops, something totally different in here for once. I like theatre, but liking in this case means, that I know all plays by Eugene Ionesco and Oscar Wilde, topped with a singular Wedekind and this one. :'D I'm terribly picky and not actively seeking out new stuff. But the Theatre of the Absurd especially has a way with words and weird situations that I always found fascinating. I read Godot a long time ago and went to see it on stage a couple of years ago but when I thought of it recently I realised I didn't remember anything so I reread it and well … I understood why my memory failed. I don't know if I'd actually call the piece good. It's weird, it's weirdly sad and therefore it's weirdly endearing. But most of all it's a giant "what the fuck is going on". It made me think of all that "Is our life a simulation"-crap since Estragon seems to be the only one capable of remembering previous events. But I'm not going to try to think about what it all could mean as it will lead nowhere anyway. :'D

Dark Rise (C.S. Pacat): The sequel is coming in November so I thought it time to refresh my memory! I own the English edition but went and borrowed the German edition from the library for all the things I might have missed and because it's interesting to read the translation vs. the original. I remember having a blast reading this for the first time (I think this was the first time for me writing something book-related on my blog because it was just too wild to contain 8D). And now, knowing the twists and turns it was delicious to look for the foreshadowing (and the twists and turns were delicious as well like hnng!!). And now waiting for the next volume is even harder. Damn!

For September I have planned something nice! Please look forward to it!

[sweet-vanilla-sims]

Year 1679 - Part 1

TW/CW: Child Death, Death Mention, Teen Pregnancy

The year began with the Collari family officially confirming a new future addition to the family. While at the Ludovici home, Katharine was starting to worry about not having conceived since the birth of her son, when he was younger it was a relief to only have one young child to care for but as she and Leonardo tried, no luck was had. Though as days turned to weeks of little rain, maybe it was for the best...

In a way of distracting herself, Katharine was happy to treat her cousin and cousin's mother-in-law to new outfits though nothing too fancy since they didn't wish to impose too much.

February brought with it news that the young Collari boy had passed from unclean water. Ashley felt for the loss the family was feeling having lost her eldest but it just made her more grateful for her healthy children.

After weeks drawn into months by storms and poor weather, Giovanni Cesare finally reached the shores of the islands he had been dreaming of. It was a new start for him enough so that the moment he arrived he decided to simply go by Giovanni. He never vocalized the feelings but he always knew that his name was only his because his late older brother died before he grew up and on the islands at least, Giovanni Cesare had no legacy to continue or live up to. It was just him in a new part of the world his family could hardly dream of. He was quickly sent off to work for a wealthy family, the Bailey's to serve them which was a surprise to Giovanni Cesare as he had expected more physically demanding work but he was not going to complain about having easy work.

It was April when Cristofolo went to visit his love and when he saw her she was deep in thought looking troubled. He worried for her and questioned her only to find that their youthful passions had let to Antea being with child. With the words spoken aloud neither really knew what to do as neither had expected a child.

For Antea, telling her aunt about her child with Cristofolo was difficult as she knew her reaction would be poor but after the initial anger and shock, Gabriella told her that the young couple should at the very least wed before the birth of child to preserve what little was left of her niece's reputation for both her and her unborn child's sake.

Given the illegitimate status of Cristofolo regardless of his adoption and the fact that he had an older brother and Jolene's pregnancy, Bianca had little argument over the young couple marrying and like Gabriella, pushed for it to happen sooner than later so as to not have a bastard for a great-grandchild. While it wasn't the romantic circumstances the young pair would have liked for the promise of spending their lives together, they were excited to marry and so before April came to an end they were wed.

The good feelings following the wedding of Cristofolo and Antea came to an end in May when Alessandro's father died from the lack of water brought on by the famine and the loss of one of the Laurent boys didn't make Alessandra's fears for her own child ease in the slightest when June came and labor struck her. Despite that on June 18th, the Rossi family welcomed a son they named Iseppo. Though July brought with it news that the late Osana's husband passed in some sort of accident and his widow was more than happy to leave young Juliette in the care of her aunt, Orelia.

The work Giovanni Cesare had wasn't difficult like he had first assumed though his employers were often rude to him and treated him with little respect. Most of his work consisted of fixing things the lady of the house or her eldest broke in one of their constant fights or cooking meals. He tried to keep his head down as best he could but the fights were hard to ignore when they got loud.

He did feel for the younger lady of the house Vivienne as some of what they argued about seemed to be her future since her step-father was eager to have the child of his wife's first marriage out of the home and sadly the girl's mother was also of the same mind. It wasn't his place to interject but he'd watch to make sure that the young lady was safe when she'd walk down to the beach late at night after fighting with her mother.

As the summer progressed, Landon and Jolene repaired their relationship especially in the wake of the loss of their young son and the anticipation of their newborn.

Sadly it wasn't meant to be as August took Landon into the Watcher's embrace following a bout of sudden but severe illness and sadly the famine showed no signs of stopping.

One night after a particularly nasty fight between the lady of the house and her daughter, while Giovanni Cesare was following her down to the water he was joined by her younger brother who also felt the same and the pair were caught by Vivienne. At first Vivienne was shocked to learn that she had been followed by them both yet she was flattered that her young brother was checking in on her and while she didn't say it aloud near her brother, the fact the handsome young servant cared for her safety made her heart flutter.

And so even after the young boy left, having been caught Giovanni Cesare realized that there was no more point hiding that he wanted to make sure she was okay. The pair spent a good portion of the night chatting and making sculptures on the beach to cheer up Vivienne. Giovanni was glad to see the young woman perk up though Vivienne was seeing the young man in a new light not as a mere servant but as a young man who while still beneath her was now worth her attentions.

[merrivia]

The intricacies of the Captive Prince trilogy often present themselves through lines which are written with a strong narrative certainty (as if the answer is clear)* but are in fact, relatively ambiguous when you stop and think. I have already spoken about this with Nicaise here, but there are more (enough to make a little series, I expect).

Here is another one from King’s Rising:

What is the “other, darker thought” that Damen believes “at all costs must be avoided”?

More after the jump:

On a basic level, you could simply read this as about Damen's fears and anxieties. Like any of us in a dire, panic-inducing situation, it is imperative to not succumb to those fears or despair and to try and envision a way towards some kind of resolution.

There are also any number of dark thoughts Damen could be having, that he might want to avoid, like how he could technically betray Laurent to get his child back. Like how a King who was detached enough could think he could always make more heirs, and that there was no proof the child was his, and act accordingly.

I think it is clear that it isn't those things, but instead is something so dark it scares him.

Having a child, we know, opens all of Damen’s wounds about family:

For Damen, to be a father means to consider what it meant to him to be a son. It tears open the grief he had been forced to lock away and makes him realise just how alone he is.

You can imagine his line of thinking. Damen believes that he failed his father, and so cannot bear that he might fail his son.

And what is one of the worst things a parent might feel they must protect their child from, when you know they won’t be physically tortured or killed? Something he has seen a terrible father do in the form of Guion? The ultimate failure to protect them?

Damen, I believe, is thinking of the potential sexual abuse of his child.

There must have been something Damen saw in Laurent’s eyes as he urgently tried to communicate something he finds hard to articulate, and which would be horrifying to say out loud to a parent. Not to mention, some hours previously he had seen Laurent’s reaction to Jokaste’s news:

Damen may not have understood the look in Laurent’s eyes then, or the “sheer horror”, but by now he’s had many hours to process what he heard. Laurent is terrified for his son. And Damen knows why, even if he can’t face it directly.

It would fit a pattern to the Regent’s mentality-after all, what happened to Damen himself, was sexual exploitation in making him a bed slave, and similarly in the assassination attempt meted out to Laurent but luckily avoided (to be drugged and raped, before murdered). And lastly, of course, and most seriously, is the Regent’s paedophilia, a topic which Damen has perhaps avoided thinking too much about.

To be clear, we know Damen is sickened by Audin offering up Nicaise, calling it by its name, the rape of a child and preferring to be tortured or killed than do it. In fact, Nicaise’s abuse and Aimeric’s both must appall him. We can see he instinctively feels and knows that the Regent’s abuse of these children are dark, immoral acts, but I think he feels so uncomfortable by it, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with it. That is classic Damen. Think of his awkwardness at the incest rumours Govart mentioned when Laurent speaks to him about. He does think on straightforward lines, shies away from the unthinkable. Layered on top of this also, I think, is him being partially stymied by the acceptance of the Veretian court of something which should be disgusting. All of us see societal injustices every day, and often feel helpless in the face of them due to wider cultural acceptance/turning of a blind eye and I think, in a way, Damen feels the same.

Furthermore, think of when Damen is silent when Paschal says he tended to the Regent’s boys. He is unable to put into words his moral repulsion- and also the whole idea would open up a box of ideological worms. Like the fact that Damen was brought up in a culture which celebrates male virility and as a result, consensually lost his virginity at 13, a kind of early sexual blooming which Pacat intended deliberately for his character. He also would have known slaves start to train at a very young age, and are transferred to the palace from the moment of puberty, though they are older on completion of training. There obviously is a clear distinction- Akielon slave training takes puberty seriously and no bed slave can ‘graduate’ without going through it, and the Regent’s interests are pre-pubescent children. But Damen has also had sex many times with slaves who have been trained (brainwashed) to serve and cannot give consent in any meaningful way. There are probably no Akielon terms, no language exactly, to censure or condemn men like the Regent. Damen does understand consent is important, rape is a crime that would exist in both worlds, and what the Regent is doing is exploitation of the worst kind- but then…isn’t slavery? You can see these difficulties effectively silence Damen, as he wrestles with his morals and feeling of hypocrisy. (Remember that it is a seismic shift within Damen to go from a man with his own retinue of slaves, to a man who knows he will ban slavery on becoming king. It isn't just that he was reduced to a slave himself, and is now empathetic. All of this and more, I think, is ticking away in the back of his mind, as he fights for his survival in terms of the overall plot of the novels).

Veretian culture is no better, and also has no language for child abuse. Laurent himself will talk of what his uncle does as a “fetish” on the one hand, and then say Aimeric “fucked” his uncle, was a “country virgin” who was “hot for it”. Yes, he does this to eviscerate him verbally, but Pacat walks an interesting line here. In the time period the books are vaguely set in (13th century ish?) the general understanding of rape, abuse, consent, age and gender**, mean there wouldn’t have been a particular cultural understanding of abuse as we know it. So Damen and Laurent both hover in a grey area of knowing something is “obscene” and wrong, but being surrounded by cultures that simply have no term or legal basis for thinking it is wrong.

The truth of the matter is though, there is no grey area when it’s your child at risk. In this moment, Damen has started to truly acknowledge the darkest undercurrent in the trilogy. One which will lead him to Laurent’s abuse. And we see Damen’s agony and his rage at what was done to Laurent and at how the society around them (his society in the moment, but Veretian too) lets these things happen without consequences:

They did indeed hear what he did, and they do not care.

Laurent too, I think, may also have had an epiphany in this moment. Damen lays no blame whatsoever at his door, would murder the Regent on sight for the evil he did to Laurent.

I think this might be the first time that Laurent is shown by an external person that he loves and trusts and respects that what happened to him was not Laurent’s fault. That it’s never a child’s fault. That he could throw an accusation of seduction and willingness at Aimeric, but that was only because that same accusation had been no doubt flung at him. Damen’s love and his righteous moral outrage at least gives him that, when Laurent's own culture won't.

So that’s my reading of the line! If you think I’m wrong, please do let me know, I love hearing alternative interpretations.

*I think this is because Pacat wrote these stories over a long time, and you can see how alive the characters are in her head, and also because I think the fact the stories were originally written in tandem with a public audience on livejournal who could interact with her in real time, and I think had a little more to work with. What’s left for the readers who come later, is what can feel like a puzzle box of a novel. It’s part of what’s wonderful about it- the gift of a writer who assumes we are intelligent and will figure it out- but also perhaps, a tiny bit frustrating. Pacat definitely embraces reader interpretation, and I’m a big believer myself in aspects of reader response theory, but there are moments I do wonder about getting it right, hence posts like these.

** I put gender here because from my cursory research, there were some legal discussions of girls as victims and ages of consent in this time period but not so much boys. If I’m wrong, I’d like to know more about it, so let me know.

[threadsun]

For incubus au you met most of them the night you found Jean's manor. You were being, admittedly, a little stupid hiking through the scary woods before a storm was about to hit, but hey, what's the worst that could happen? Getting caught in the spooky woods during the storm that's what!

You were just running at a certain point, trying to keep yourself from freezing and trying to get out of these fucking woods when you see it, a huge fuckin manor in the middle of fucking nowhere, the windows are lit up too, does someone live out here?

Deciding asking for a strangers help was better then potentially dying in the rain you run up onto their covered porch. After collecting yourself for a second you knock on the door. It takes a minute but it's eventually opened by a very handsome man, you ask him for shelter and, after looking you up and down, says of course you can stay!

He introduced himself as Jean Laurent and your jaw damn near crashes to the floor. Jean's huge in the acting scene and you can't fucking believe he's just here in the middle of the woods. He takes slight advantage over your shocked state and ushers you to the living room where you see four other men. Two colorful men were lying on one of the couches while a goth and a...soft boy? sit on another

As the night goes on they all get you to warm up to them, some even making obvious passes at you much to Jean's dismay. As they all get a bit friendlier and touches start to linger they all notice you're not getting tired. They don't expect you to pass out or anything but lightly feeding five incubi at once would at least make a normal person a bit woozy

Once you get up to use the restroom they all talk about it and Rory mentions he's delt with something like this before, a human that doesn't feel drained after feeding on them. The others call him crazy but after asking them why he'd lie about this they all come to terms with it. After that Jean decides they're keeping you, Jack tries to fight it but once Jean reminds him of poor sweet Joseph and Ian who can barely get a meal in without feeling guilty he reluctantly agrees

The next day you meet Nick and Bo and once they start taking a shine to you ask to move in as well. Nick is also choosing to stay because he's high key worried Jean's gonna drug you so he feels like he needs to be here, there's not a thought behind Bo's eyes and we love him for it

Berry also takes a bit of a shine to you during one of his visits but he'll only move in if you're put off by him. If you seem to like him he'll keep to his visits

If you have any more questions feel free to let me know!

Ooooh I love that!! Bo has not had a single thought in his life and he's perfect 🥰

Also Rory being the only one who's seen this before is super cool!! And Jean using Jack's kindness to manipulate him into keeping you by using Ian and Joseph I'm !!!!!!

[twdmusicboxmystery]

First 10 Minutes of Daryl Dixon, Episode 1 - Part 2

@wdway

@frangipanilove has also been doing some research about the water bottle Daryl finds in the boat cabin. It has Cecile on it which means, Blind. Interesting.

@galadrieljones

If you look closely you can see it says “Ste-Cecile,” ie Sainte Cecile, which is a commune in Normandy. Saint Cecilia is also the patron Saint of musicians.

Also I knew I needed to go back through that boat environment. So much stuff. I need to take my kids to the pool but i'll just leave on this real quick. Take a look at the curtains, brightened up a bit. Do they look red, yellow, and navy blue to you? A la Snow White.

Also I was wrong earlier when I said that the first thing we hear is the story of the Irishman. The first thing we hear is Judith's voice, saying that Daryl deserves his happy ending. That is more likely our thesis.

@wdway

It really does looks like it could be yellow or a mustard yellow. I have thought of the plaid carpet in Still, too. And you mentioned earlier about Daryl's jacket arm that was plaid, we saw that when he went to oceanside. In the last couple of seasons Carol has worn a lot of plaid. We see Eugene in a plaid shirt in the one year later scene. There is one more that I think I noticed yesterday hold on and let me see if I can find it.

@wdway

I want to say that in the little scene where Daryl and the young man (I can't remember his name to save my life) they're sitting together on a wall, I think it's when the boy introduces himself. And they shake hands, I think I noticed that the boy has on a plaid shirt. I remember thinking, he has a plaid shirt on like we've been seeing in s11. You would think with all the pictures I have taken over the last couple of days I would have it, but I don't. If he is in the plaid shirt though I think that's significant that these curtains are also plaid, kind of blending a water symbol with another savior symbol.

@galadrieljones

Plaid is definitely a thing. The kid’s name is Laurent. I was thinking too about he kind of looks like a little Daryl

@wdway

Guys, I just did a little Google search and you're going to love this, I can't believe that I haven't done this before. It's on the meaning of the empty chair both Jewish and Christian. Elijah's chair. Jewish tradition teaches that Elijah the prophet will be the harbinger of the coming of the Messiah and the world's Redemption. It is a chair of Hope. In Christianity. An invitation to not let who is missing be the final word. In the presence of Jesus, the final word is life beyond death, love beyond sin and light showing us the way through all darkness. Oh my gosh, it's just not me being obsessive about something. They are using a single chair as a symbol of someone missing.

The first time I really noticed it was in s11 when Daryl, Carol, Maggie, and Gabriel were all on the train platform discussing the deal that Carol had negotiated with Pamela. Daryl stood at the far end away from everyone and between him and them was this very simple empty chair. At one point he does go near Carol and takes an apple and then returns to where he had been. Since then I have noticed these odd empty chairs that the camera seems to linger on. It's not always around Daryl, but it seem as if there is someone missing within the overall story.

@galadrieljones

This is great. It really makes me think too about the empty heart shaped chair in the first flashback from Find Me. Like a missing lover.

@wdway

I meant to ask you earlier the picture that has Daryl and what you believe is a necklace, which preview did you get that from? I thought later tonight I might check it out and see if I can get better shot.

@galadrieljones

It’s toward the end

@twdmusicboxmystery

I love everything you Gals have said! I don't know that I have much to add per the individual symbols.

Oh, except about the shot where he might be wearing a necklace. I thought that, too. It's one of the final shot where he's obviously a prisoner but he walks into the light and tilts his head back as if enjoying the sunlight.

THe light flashes off something at his neck and at first glance, it seems to be a pendant. However, I zoomed in on one of the pictures (i'll put it below) and I"m fairly certain it's just a button. Like, he has a shirt with a button on it and the top buttons are open and the shirt is lying kind of sideways across his collarbone, so the light catches the button in a flashy way. I could be wrong. Even zooming in, it's still unclear, but I did look at that, and like I said, I'm fairly sure it's just a button.

Anyway, I just wanted to expand a bit on what I said this morning about the parallels to 30 Days Without an Accident. In that episode, he and those with him (Glenn, Sasha, etc) went into a store/market. Here, Daryl goes into a market. Both times, it starts out quiet, but then everything goes sideways and they find themselves beseiged by walkers. The biggest difference here is that Daryl is alone. But that's actually fitting. If you watch the 30 Days sequence, what the characters go through foreshadow their arcs. Since this show is solely about Daryl, and he's the only main character from TF who will have an arc, it just makes sense that he's alone here.

Anyway, we had the first walker crawling toward him, much like the one in 30 Days with the messed up foot that crawled toward Bob. The biggest thing that was the lightbulb moment for me was when Daryl jumped up on the table. It looks EXACTLY like when he jumped up on the pyramid of beer cases in 30 Days. In this sequence, he stabs a walker that's trying to grab him from under the table, and his spear gets stuck. He ends up breaking it off. That seemed very specific and intentional to me. I have no idea what it foreshadows, but something.

And what would be the point of having a mirror scene to 30 Days? Well, it's all at least a little bit conjecture, of course, but I have a few ideas. You could argue that 30 days was the beginning of Beth's arc. Or maybe better to say Bethyl's arc. It began in 4x01 (hug) and ended in 5x08. Of course "ended" isn't quite right either. That's when it hit the coda. So, you could argue that, with Laurent as the Beth/Christ figure, this signals the beginning of Daryl's arc with Laurent. That might make sense. But I also wonder if this signals the beginning of the second part of Beth's story. Like this is where the story jumps to from the coda. Hence, a similar sequence to 30 Days.

@galadrieljones

Hmm. Now that I’m looking at it again, it could just be a button??

@wdway

Love what you wrote above, @twdmusicboxmystery. The fighting from above also reminded me of Maggie and Sasha in Alone climbing up on a car to fight walkers. In that episode Maggie is searching for Glenn and Sasha faces her fear that Ty was dead and open her heart to Bob.

The possible button reminded if the white button on her heart necklace.

Something else I thought of while reading all the comments was at the beginning of the episode we see Daryl on top of the boat and then we hear Judith that he deserves to be happy, if I remember correctly after she said that the pink image with the yellow c appears and we see the morning sunrise.

@twdmusicboxmystery

Btw, I looked up the meaning of Laurent's name. By itself, it can mean, "bright, shining one." But it also means someone who comes from Laurentum. Laurentum was an ancient Roman city. Let's just say some of it's history is tied up with Romulus. So, we can connect Laurent to Up the Wolves.

@galadrieljones

Love the 30 Days stuff. The wine as a French symbol, plus the military element of the Big Spot is also an interesting parallel here.

The episode also ends with a nod to a deadly infection which is yet unexplained

Clara is also Irish, isn’t she?

Pretty sure she is, as I saw the actress in an Irish film just last year.

There’s also this weird thing with how Clara kills herself. It’s very close to how Juliet kills herself in Romeo and Juliet. Damn romance novels.

@twdmusicboxmystery

Great catch on the Irish connection. Love that!

@wdway

After my long ramble about the empty chair I did yesterday I now have something to add. I think it triggered something when I saw it after all our talk about Beth and Laurent being connected. I'm going to show you a shot of Daryl as he step inside the doorway of the market.

We see the white empty chair, but I have not really realized what it was that was sitting somewhat to the side in front of it. It's a red child stroller. I just felt that if the white chair represents missing Beth then the stroller might mean there is still some kind of connection with her and children. At least that's my take, am curious if you guys have an opinion.

Sounds like a great interpretation to me. We could add what we said yesterday: that the gumball-looking machine is reminiscent of the lollipop jar at Grady. All in all, everything in this shot screams Beth.

@twdmusicboxmystery

I'm glancing through yesterday's convos again to get pics and put together posts. (I actually have a ton of stuff, especially about DC, that I haven't posted yet, lol. All the Daryl stuff is definitely squeezing it out.)

Anyway, I think I just glazed over the very end of what you said, Galadrieljones. Specifically, about Greene being an Irish name. I totally didn't internalize the connection there. We've talked about Beth's Irish roots after stuff like the Paddy truck in 6x06, and the fact that some of the songs she sings around the campfire in 3x01 are of Irish origin.

But if you really think of the scenario they presented through Daryl here, it's very...Hershel. A man who lost his wife suddenly and had to put her down. (He talks about "taking care of things.") And then he remains strong, or tries to, for his daughter, who cries for her mother. Of course Maggie mourned her father and brother, but it was Beth we saw cry for them, run to her mother after she'd been shot the way a child would, and then have an epic, catatonic reaction that culminated in her suicide attempt.

In a way, this Irish story is meant to evoke Beth's origins with her family. And having it here probably foreshadows Daryl stumbling across some evidence of her at some point.

@galadrieljones

Ooh I did not even think of that. Nice connection.

Also she and Maggie sing “Parting Glass,” which is technically a Scottish folk song but it has been sung so much in Ireland that it’s more recent iterations are thought to be based on the Irish version. Greene is such an Irish name I can’t help but think this is the intention.

@wdway

@twdmusicboxmystery, I just read your explanation of the Irish story and I love it! I think you're so on point with it representing Herschel and Beth and mom always after her mother emerged from the barn. I just want to remind you guys that it was actually Daryl who shot her mother and put her down at least the first time obviously not well enough.

@galadrieljones

If we think too about how Beth is the last remaining Greene this has strong implications that the Irish references are meant for her. Maggie is a Rhee.

@twdmusicboxmystery

Also, it was beside Hershel in 4a we saw the picture of the boat on the stormy sea that said “smooth seas don’t make for skilled sailors.” And he held a coffee cup at the time that said Java Saves.

@galadrieljones

Has anyone ever talked about the name Hershel and how it is Yiddish? It means “deer.” I just think that’s further proof that the deer imagery is related to the Greene legacy.

@galadrieljones

Ofc Hershel is from the comics but all the deer stuff AND Beth are products of the show

@twdmusicboxmystery

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone mention that before. Interesting!

@wdway

About Parting Glass. Years ago when I was researching beer I read how many monasteries made a business from brewing beer. Pretzels were made in the cross shape because of how monks would pray with they arms crossing their bodies. A few of the sites actually have a little reference to The Walking Dead and Beth singing Parting Glass. We have Parting Glass from season 3 but also s4 we have Beth singing, was it called shotgunning beer? And throughout the series we have seen pretzels and beer images together. You might want to look into beer and monasteries. For some reason I want to say there was a nun's version, but it's been years.

It just occurred to me and as I look at the little Bee in the background of this conversation, the name honey, honey is made from bees, black, yellow, and in the case of a bumblebee there's also white. How many times have we seen these colors in the show. There's this picture of Emily from long ago for a Halloween costume I believe, dressed in a little bee suit.

@galadrieljones

Beer and pretzels, a Dwight and Sherry reference. Really interesting since Dwight is a crusader archetype, like Daryl, always searching, always saving. And yes in the song “Be Good,” there’s a lyric “And we’ll buy beer to shotgun, and we’ll lay in the lawn, and we’ll be good.”

The whole song is about drinking beer

I never really thought about how that’s related to Dwight and Sherry till now lol. Weird how these little blind spots can still crop up.

@wdway

Also on Rick and Michonne's little road honeymoon trip, Say Yes, they stole from the saviors who were playing golf some items from the back of their truck, two items were pretzels and beer. This is about the time when I wanted to I started researching beer and pretzels because of the Dwight/Honey and Rick and Michonne.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

The Friend

Nuisance

Warnings: Crude misogynistic/homophobic/sexual language, alcohol, mention of implied attempted sexual assault, oh right, broken bones, but he deserves it :)

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“So, how’s business?”

Cedric leaned back in his chair, picking up his glass of rum. It was the second one, and the evening was still young, so he was taking it slow. Instead of drinking, he shrugged, watching the golden liquid slosh around. “Not much going on.”

A few weeks had passed since Colette’s death. Even though the threat had been buried with Jean, Cedric had decided to stay low for the time being. Not that there was much to do, anyway. There never was in winter, when people either stayed at home, or fled into warmer climes.

Instead, he had focused on his other business; the legal one. Laurent, the one who had asked, might actually be interested in details. The interest of the others in his trade waxed and waned depending on how much they wanted to suck up to him.

“Been busy in the shop instead,” he said, taking a sip after all. “Apparently this year, there’s a run on a certain kind of antique clock. You know, the kind that was made fifty years ago, before the nyvi started to share some of their technologies.”

Laurent nodded. “I’ve heard of them being mentioned in some… poem? Play? I don’t know what exactly. It’s a hot topic amongst the ladies.” He wriggled his eyebrows, stroking a hand over his bound back, brown dreadlocks in an exaggerated fashion. “Hey, got one of those clocks left?”

Cedric laughed and swatted Laurent’s arm. “Sorry. All out. But I got my hands on some rare raqharian coins. With the rising tension in the west, those might soon be worth a fortune.”

It was, in fact, Merridy who had found the coins. He had gotten the idea in a pinch, desperate to find a way to let her stay that would allow both of them to keep their pride. He would never have expected her to do this good of a job, though. She spent hours cleaning and researching every single one of those coins, nose stuck in his books until late at night. Each one was then put into a paper envelope, and the origin, year, approximate value and references used to find said information neatly written on the back. 

The raqharian coins weren’t the only rare ones she had discovered so far, and Cedric had to admit that not only had he gotten an excellent deal with this stock, he had gotten an even better deal with her. Letting her work for him still left a bitter taste in his mouth, considering how well it had ended for Colette. But he couldn’t have let her go back on the streets; he didn’t think she would survive the winter out there.

“Where’s your cute little shadow today?” one of the other men asked. 

Cedric raised his head, not liking the man’s tone. He dug around in his memory, to find the drawer he had stored this guy’s name in. Marc. The friend of a friend, and judging by his uncivilized behavior so far, not welcome here for much longer.

“What do you mean?” 

Marc gestured with his almost empty glass—the third one, if Cedric remembered right. “The little girlie that was following you around last time,” he said, slightly slurring his words. “Wouldn’t have thought you’d manage to get one that young. Is she even of age? Can’t blame you for wanting to try another hole for once, though.” 

He laughed as if he had made a grand joke. No one else did.

“Does your husband know? Does he watch? Oh, is that why she looks like a boy?” He cupped his hands in front of his chest, imitating breasts, and spilling a few drops of his drink in the process. “I could never see the appeal in that. I need a real woman. No offense, man.”

It had become dead quiet in the salon. Even the man shuffling the cards had frozen mid-motion, staring at Marc. Cedric was staring as well, but at the glass in his hand, the rum inside rippling as his fingers trembled.

“Out.”

It was the only word he managed to say without screaming; without throwing something at Marc’s head, without reaching out with his magic, to grab one of his many gems and fling it straight through that asshole’s skull.

Yvan would hate blood on his carpet, and Merridy—once she came home—would be horrified knowing someone had died in this very house.

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, man!” Marc’s voice was higher pitched now, laced with the righteous indignation of a drunk asshole who truly couldn’t see anything wrong with what he had said. “Can’t you take a— hey!”

Laurent had gotten up and grabbed Marc’s arm, to pull him off the chair. The glass clattered to the floor, spilling the rest of its contents, but not breaking. 

“Let go of me!”

Marc’s struggle was in vain as Laurent dragged him out of the salon. He alternated pleas and curses, which were soon swallowed by the wall separating the room and the hallway.

“Let’s play.” Cedric grabbed the abandoned cards, starting over with shuffling them. It was probably unnecessary, but he needed to keep his hands busy with something that wasn’t ripping out Marc’s throat. “Or does anyone else have something to say?” 

No one said a word. Most of them didn’t even look at him. Laurent returned to his spot, pouring himself a glass of alcohol, but only taking a small sip. His expression was dark, his orange eyes gleaming.

Cedric dealt, and picked up his own hand. As he stared into the cards, the numbers and symbols all blurred together. Outside the salon, he could hear how the door to the street was opened and closed. Good riddance.

He had just thrown a few coins into the middle of the table to conclude the first round, when he heard something else. A voice, so quiet it was only the feeling of knowing it that made his hair stand on edge. Cedric lowered his cards, indecisive. Then something shattered, and someone screamed, and he jumped up.

When Cedric reached the hallway, the door to the street was wide open. Marc was still there, inside, clutching his face. Blood dripped down between his fingers as he alternated curses and pained groans.

“Didn’t I tell you to get out?” Cedric almost growled the words, what little was left of his patience fading fast.

“Your stupid whore broke my nose!” Marc shouted, pointing at the door. A pile of ceramic shards lay at his feet.

Merridy. And just like that, Cedric’s restraint was gone. He grabbed Marc’s hand, slamming it against the dresser at his back. The sickening crunch of his wrist was almost drowned out by his scream.

“What have you done to her?” Cedric asked. “What!”

“Nothing. Nothing!” For the first time, there was true panic in Marc’s eyes. “She attacked… she attacked me. Help. Someone, help!”

Cedric didn’t need to look around to know that no one would be helping Marc. Shadows in the corner of his eye told him that the others had come to watch, though.

“Sure she did.” Cedric pressed down harder on the broken wrist, while he raised his other hand to grab the man’s throat. “What. Have you. Done to her?”

“Nothing! Nothingnothingnothing, let me…” Marc wheezed as Cedric squeezed his throat. He tried to swat his hand away, but between the alcohol and his injuries, he had too little strength. “Nothing, we just talked. Please!”

“Then what did you say to her?”

“I… I said…” Every hint of confidence was gone from Marc’s posture. There was pure terror in his eyes. “Said it’s… it’s her own fault for wearing… wearing that she got— oh gods, please let go, please please.” When Cedric didn’t let go, only shook him by the neck, he sobbed. “That she— That she got attacked.”

Attacked.

“Fuck,” Cedric said. “Fuck!” 

The second curse was a shout, accompanying his fist as he let go of Marc’s throat, to punch him in the stomach. 

While Marc’s legs started to crumble, Cedric smashed his arm against the dresser a second time, breaking it as well, for good measure. If Marc’s previous behavior was any indication, he had probably phrased it in an even ruder way. This fucking piece of shit. Cedric was tempted to shove him out of the house, into his backyard. To watch him crash to the ground, and let the earth swallow him. But Merridy was somewhere out there, scared and possibly hurt, and he didn’t have time to deal with this asshole. He had to find her.

“If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.” No fancy threats this time, no made up stories about a hundred different ways he could use the earth to kill. He’d ram a blade right through his stomach, if he had to.

Without waiting for a reply, Cedric started to walk. Someone followed him. He whirled around, ready to defend himself, but it was only Laurent. Laurent, and some other guy. Wendel, he found the name in yet another drawer in his mind.

“We’ll help you find her,” Laurent said. 

He was holding a cane, which he handed to Cedric the moment he had caught up. It wasn’t one of the prettier ones; he must have grabbed the first one he had found.

Cedric nodded. He was thankful for the gesture, and thankful for the offer, but too agitated to put any of it into words. He knew Laurent wouldn’t expect him to.

“Don’t call for her,” he said instead. “If she’s scared, she might hide from you.”

Or from him. Not knowing what kind of state she was in, he wasn’t sure if he could dare to call for her. Fuck. She had come to his house for help, only to be hurt again.

So he didn’t call for her. Instead, he tried to see the world like she might see it, searching for anything telling him where she might have run. Anywhere that might look safe enough for her so she could have gone there to hide.

It was fucking hard, because nothing was safe out here. It was too dark, too cold. The sidewalks were covered in muddy slush, and fresh snow had started to fall. He had to find her, or she would freeze to death.

“Cedric!” someone shouted. It wasn’t Laurent, so it must be Wendel.

Cedric started to run into the direction of the voice, his cane slipping over the slick ground. After a few steps, he lifted it and carried it instead, knowing very well how risky it was. Twice he came close to falling, but he managed to catch himself at the last moment. When he arrived where Wendel was waiting for him, he leaned heavily against a house wall, trying to catch his breath. 

Laurent had reached them as well, standing next to Wendel. They were whispering, but Cedric couldn’t make out their expressions in the dark. When he cast them a sharp glance, Laurent pointed into the side street next to him. Fingers firmly wrapped around the handle of his cane once more, Cedric took a careful step inside.

There she was, sitting on the ground in the corner between a wall and a pile of empty crates. With her arms wrapped around her knees and her head ducked deep between her shoulders, she made herself as small as possible; and then somehow even smaller when he stopped in front of her.

Cedric turned to look back over his shoulder, a lump in his throat.

“I got this,” he said. “Go back and make sure he’s gone when we return.”

The two of them nodded and retreated, leaving Cedric alone with the terrified young woman. Despite his words, he had absolutely no idea what to do. He wished Yvan was here, but his husband was out of town for a few days.

“Merridy…”

She winced as he called her name, but didn’t look up. Cedric tried to see if she was injured, but between what little light found its way into the street and her cowering posture, it was hopeless. There was no blood he could see, so that was probably good.

Her shirt was torn, and her coat—she must have been wearing one in that weather, right?—nowhere to be seen. That was less good, even if he ignored the implications. It was way too cold for that.

Without thinking, he leaned his cane against the wall and took off his own coat. It wasn’t made for weather like this, but it was better than nothing. He dropped it rather helplessly on top of her, not daring to get closer than absolutely necessary. It still made her flinch.

She wasn’t only afraid; she was afraid of him.

Cedric fought down the annoyance at this realization. This wasn’t about him. He took a step back, to put a bit of distance between himself and Merridy, before lowering himself to the ground. The bottom of his pants was instantly soaked, making him grimace. He could think of a million better things to do than to sit in filth like this, but he needed to rest his leg. 

Propping his cane across his lap, he absentmindedly traced the wood before he remembered that this was the wrong one; that there would be no amethyst inlays for his fingertips to find.

While he waited for her to calm down, he tried to calm down as well. His anger wasn’t directed at her, but that wouldn’t matter much if he scared her with it. Gods knew she was scared enough already. He needed to know what had happened. He needed to know if she was hurt. 

Cedric wiggled his toes, unpleasantly aware of how stiff they had become. He hated the cold. Had hated it ever since… no, he shouldn’t think of that, either. Leaning his head back against the wall, he turned it slightly to the side, so he could watch her. Huddled under his coat, she was still shivering, occasionally shaking with a quiet sob. More snow had started to drift down, settling on her ruffled hair.

“Merridy,” he said when he couldn’t stand the wait any longer. It was so cold he was about to start shivering. “What happened?”

Just when Cedric thought she wouldn’t reply, she started to speak. 

“I was… on, on my way t-to get some, some f-food,” she said. Her teeth were chattering so hard, it was difficult to make out the words. “S-someone attacked me. He, he w-wanted… it ha-happens, right?” Her bitter laugh turned into another sob, stealing her breath. “I g-got… away. When I… when I c-came back. He said… said it’s m-my own fault. For… for dressing… like…” 

She broke off, and her hand vanished under the coat she had wrapped around herself. The collar of what was left of her shirt moved as she probably tugged on the fabric. It was ridiculous. From what Cedric had seen, it was a plain, ordinary shirt. Not that it mattered. She could be dancing naked down the street and it wouldn’t give anyone the right to—

“I hit him. With a… a vase,” she said. It was a mere whisper, pulling Cedric out of his thoughts. He watched helplessly as she pressed herself into the corner between house and crates, stammering, “I’m sorry, I’m, I’m sorry. Please. Please, I’m s-sorry.” She squeezed her eyes shut as if she expected him to hit her or something.

“What for?” he asked, trying his best to keep his voice calm. She hadn’t been this terrified since the day he had saved her from the dungeon. He wouldn’t have expected how much it hurt to see her like this.

“He, he… he’s… y-your friend.”

“Merridy. That guy isn’t my friend.” Cedric waited for her to open her eyes, shooting him an uncertain glance, before he continued, “No one who talks to you like that is my friend. Do you understand?”

He could see from the look on her face that she didn’t. She might have understood his words, but she didn’t believe them, not really. He extended his arm in her direction, not moving otherwise.

A few minutes passed before she dared to move, to shuffle towards him. When she was close enough, he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her even closer. He could feel how much she was shaking. She must be freezing.

She didn’t resist as he wrapped his other arm around her as well, tugging the coat back into place, then holding her. There wasn’t much warmth he could share like this.

“You might have broken his nose, but I broke a few more bones of his.” Perhaps his admission of violence wasn’t the best idea to try and calm her down, but Cedric didn’t know what the fuck else he should do. “And I would do it again. If anyone ever talks to you that way, or tries to hurt you, I will make sure he regrets it.” 

Strangely enough, she didn’t seem too bothered by his words. After a moment, she relaxed against him, sniffling quietly.

“But… but why,” she whispered.

“Because you are my friend. Little nuisance.” 

The last word had just slipped out. Cedric watched her with concern, hoping that she wouldn’t misunderstand what had come to be a silly nickname. He didn’t mind her living with him, and neither did Yvan. Sure, there were a few benefits of having the house to themselves both of them missed, but they would survive a few months of keeping certain activities to their bedroom.

“Now can we go home? Please?” Cedric cleared his throat, blaming the way his voice had cracked on the cold. He really fucking hated the cold. His fingers had started to turn numb as well, and his right leg ached with a pain that was usually no more than a long buried memory.

Merridy nodded and scrambled to her feet, with way more grace than him. Cedric had to cling to the wall to get up, leaning heavily on his cane as soon as he was standing. Then she was at his side, with one arm wrapped around his back. He wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to steady him, or hug him, or find some warmth, or… whatever, perhaps a bit of it all.

He put his arm around her in return, trying his best to ignore the numbness of his toes, and how it left him out of balance. They walked in silence, thick snowflakes flurrying around them.

His house finally coming into view, the door slightly ajar, was the best thing Cedric had seen in a while. A relieved sigh left his lips as he entered, letting go of Merridy, so he could close the door properly. His fingers were so cold, the metal handle felt hot to his touch, and the warm air prickled on his face. Someone had cleaned up the shards on the floor.

“Let’s get you changed,” he said, closing up to her and pointing in the direction of the stairs. 

Merridy nodded and started to walk. As they passed the salon, Cedric saw Laurent sitting alone at the table. The others were all gone, and the table was empty, except for the pile of playing cards, neatly stacked in the middle of it. 

When Laurent spotted them, he got up, which in return made Merridy shrink back behind Cedric. Cedric positioned himself so he was between her and Laurent as he shook the man’s hand, to thank him for his help.

“I’m sorry the evening ended this way,” Laurent said. “If it helps… no one else thinks that way.”

Cedric nodded, lips pressed together into a thin line. He didn’t plan on discussing what else Marc had said about Merridy in front of her.

“Thank you. Keep me updated, all right?”

Laurent nodded, then left. Cedric looked after him until the door had closed behind him. Few of his acquaintances he considered his true friends, but Laurent was one of them.

“Let’s go,” he said, tearing his gaze off the door and looking at Merridy instead.

She nodded shyly. Still wrapped in his coat, she looked way smaller than she was. They climbed the stairs together, then Cedric stepped into his bedroom to change out of the wet clothes, while Merridy walked down the hallway to the study. 

By the time Cedric left his bedroom, wearing a soft sweater and thick pants made out of wool, she hadn’t yet emerged again. Instead of standing around uselessly to wait for her, he climbed down the stairs, entering the living room. The first thing he did was to exchange his cane, brushing his fingers over the familiar ornaments as he picked up his usual one. Then he put a few fresh logs into the fireplace, stoking the flames and warming his fingers at the same time.

Once the fire was burning brightly, Cedric entered the kitchen, where he filled the kettle. He hummed quietly, trying to fight down the unease, and wishing once more Yvan was here. It was fine, everything would be totally fine. He had to search for a while until he had found everything he needed—who in their right mind put the honey next to the spices—but he was still long done by the time he heard the living room door open.

Cedric left the kitchen, two cups in hand, to find Merridy standing in front of the sofa. She had changed into the loosest clothes she had been able to find. The sleeves of her dark blue sweater reached down over her wrists. When he came closer, she sat down, hands folded in her lap.

“Here,” he said, handing her a cup. “Careful, it’s hot.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Cedric sat down on the sofa as well. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but it was harder to reach the coffee table from his armchair, and his cup was so hot, he had to put it down after a few sips.

“Didn’t know you could make tea,” Merridy said, clinging to her cup.

“Don’t tell Yvan.” Cedric winked. “Next thing you know he’ll have me cooking and stuff.”

His words made Merridy laugh. It was a short, quiet laugh, but a laugh. It warmed Cedric’s heart. She put the cup down, fidgeting with her sleeves.

“Can I… can I give you a hug?” she asked without looking at him.

“Of…” Cedric had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could try again. “Of course.” 

He sat up straight, not daring to move as she came closer. Awkwardly, she put her hands on his shoulders. Only when she sank against him did he dare to return the gesture, slowly raising his arms to put them around her ever so carefully. She smelled slightly of lavender. That explained what had taken her so long. She must not only have changed her clothes.

They sat like this for a while. For the first time since Marc had opened his mouth, Cedric felt his anger fade. It didn’t matter. This asshole didn’t matter, and his words didn’t matter. If he would try anything else, Cedric would kill him, easy as that.

The only thing that did matter was Merridy. Cedric reached behind him, to grab the blanket that was lying there, so he could pull it around her shoulders. She snuggled into it, leaning partially against him, and partially against the cushions at the back of the sofa. Her eyes were half closed, her gaze lost somewhere between him and the fireplace. She must be exhausted. Cedric would let her rest a bit, before he would continue his expedition in the kitchen, trying to find something to eat as well. 

She was going to be fine. He would make sure of it.

[ID: The banner shows a broken window, outside which the sun sets   behind an iron fence. The sky is bright yellow and orange. The title   nuisance is written across it in scribbled looking letters with a orange  to yellow to orange gradient. All other images are purely ornamental   lines. End ID.]

Tagging: @dont-touch-my-soup​​​ @freefallingup13​​​ @kixngiggles​​

[dalmascan-requiem]

Dalmascan Requiem Moments: Poison

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Family isn't always blood-related.

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Read on AO3 or keep reading after the jump

content warnings: mention of poison

Part of FFxivWrite 2023

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The prompt for Day 14 is 'clear'! I had planned on this story going in a different direction, but it was one of those times where the characters decided "you know what? we're going to do something else and you're just along for the ride", LOL.

Granted, I love when stories do that, so I hope you enjoy!

"Here, Gale, take this."

Gemna hands the blue-haired Viera a small vial of clear liquid, which he holds up to his eyes with a frown. "Is this the poison?"

"Yes. Be very careful with it, though, it's highly potent." Gemna stares at him until he puts the vial down before continuing. "If you get this on your skin you can end up hurting yourself--or worse. You only need a small amount in a drink but the effects will happen relatively quickly, so make sure not to stick around after you're sure the target drank it."

"I'll be careful Gemna, promise." Gale puts the vial in a leather sack before storing it in his pocket, then looks up to Gemna with a smirk. "Have you thought about poisoning us?"

"Gods, not a day goes by without me wanting to kill you boys." Gemna chuckles, but the look on Gale's face seems serious.

"Why haven't you, then?"

"Huh?" Gemna looks at Gale, shocked that he would even ask.

"I appreciate that you haven't, as I like living, but… why haven't you?" Gale's face is thoughtful as he continues. "You have had ample opportunity to do so."

Gemna continues to stare at Gale for what feels like an eternity, before heaving a heavy sigh. "Gale… you are an idiot."

"I--what? Why?" Gale turns a confused gaze at Gemna, which she chuckles at.

"I was joking. I'd expect Laurent to take me seriously but not you. Goodness." The Bangaa sits on a bar stool, and gestures to the stool next to her for Gale to sit down. When he does, she smiles at him for a moment while the Viera squirms slightly in the silence. Eventually, Gemna continues.

"Don't get me wrong, you boys drive me insane. It's never seen anyone worse with the customers than Laurent, and he'll burn the place down if he so much as looks at an oven the wrong way. And you… You're obnoxious. And paranoid. And a smartarse. And--"

"Alright, Gemna, I get it."

Gemna huffs at the interruption, but her smile doesn't fade. "It doesn't matter if you both get on my nerves, you're family. I'd never want to hurt you two, even if you deserve a smack upside the head from time to time."

Gale seems lost in thought. "A family?"

"Oh please, didn't you have a family in the jungle?"

"No. Not like the families in Rabanastre, at least. The village raised the children, and we didn't know who our parents were."

Gemna frowns. "That's… strange. But that doesn't matter, because I'm your family now!" The Bangaa leans over to pat Gale on the head, which prompts him to cross his arms and fold his ears down in annoyance. "I want you two to stay safe, and be happy. So remember what I said about the poison, okay?"

"I will, Gemna." Gale pats the pocket the vial is in lightly, and grins at Gemna. "Thank you. For being my family. Our family."

"Sure, sure." Gemna waves off Gale, looking slightly embarrassed. "So when are you two going to grow the family?"

"What are you talking about, Gemna?"

The bartender smirks at him. "When will there be a little Viera hellion running around the bar? I bet he'd have your eyes."

"What… I--That--" Gale's face turns a deep red. "That's not… possible--physically…and I'd hope they'd have Laurent's eyes--wait--"

Gemna gives Gale a pointed look. "Oh, is that so?"

"I-I need to go now. Job and all that." The Viera quickly heads to the exit while Gemna hides a snicker. "I'll let you know when it's done…" Gales walks out before the Bangaa can respond.

"It's too much fun to tease them." She reaches over the bar and grabs some ingredients to fix herself a drink. "I think they'd make for great parents, though…"

[gildedgaze]

“…Not to mention the raids at Vask,”

Damen ran a hand through his hair in confusion as Callista frowned, raids, sounded dangerous…She wondered what mother was doing in this realm, like Jord, would she recognize her if they were to meet here, by fate?

Laurent pointed to the pot of honey by Callista’s side, silently indicating for her to hand it to him.

After drizzling a sparse amount on his bread, he said casually,

“It was horrific, half their population wiped, and for what?”

Damen looked to him wide-eyed. Before Callista could begin to formulate a response, the tent flap rose, as Étienne sheepishly entered.

All three gazed at him in expectant silence as the street boy flushed, saying,

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,”

“What is it?” Laurent said with mild impatience.

“You told me to come at sundown, for training?”

* * *

Few lines from my WIP:

darling, i do: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37072270/chapters/92502751

I WANNA FINISH STORY OFF STRONG THIS YEAR, I HAVE SO MUCH PLANNED AND SO LITTLE TIME TO WRITE FOR FUN. fuCk capitalism, “lord, the women you put on this earth to look pretty and read books are forced to work.”

smh.